The Dark Lord's Lover
by Gamma Orionis
Summary: Bellatrix would do anything to be a Death Eater, and suffer anything that the Dark Lord wants her to. Written for Rosalie'sRevenge's University challenge on the HPFC forum. Warnings: contains dark themes, non-con, and M-rated things. Are we clear on that? Good.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: Written for Rosalie'sRevenge's Smut University challenge – in which every chapter has sex of some sort in it. If you don't like that, go read my story _19 Years Later_ instead. It's much cleaner Bellatrix/Voldemort.

Starting point for this story (As provided by Rosalie'sRevenge): "The Death Eaters are a boys thing. But Bellatrix wants in, and keeps finding reasons to sit in on their gatherings. She'll do anything to join, and something about her catches Voldemort's eye. She's so delightfully evil."

This week's prompt (well, the one I chose): Roses

Writing smut is so far out of my comfort zone that my comfort zone doesn't even know this exists. So please review and tell me if I'm doing something wrong, but please be gentle when you do it. Oh, and please, please don't ask me to "please update". The chapters will be written more or less once per week, each time a new prompt is put up. No matter how many "please updates" I get, I will not be writing them faster than that. Just saying.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters in any way. I'm just playing with them while trying to improve my writing skills. That's all.

Sorry for the long intro!

)O(

The Death Eaters – including Bellatrix's husband – filed out of the meeting room, and Bellatrix waited.

"Kind of you to join me," Rodolphus said, offering his wife his arm, but she shook her head.

"I need to speak to the Dark Lord."

He frowned a little. "The Dark Lord does not talk to just anyone–"

"Mistress Lestrange," said the Dark Lord, following the last of his Death Eaters out of the meeting room. "Good evening. How… pleasant to see you again. It is so endearing to see you meeting your husband after our little gatherings."

Bellatrix curtsied. "Good evening, Sir. But I am not here for my husband. I would like to speak with you. May I ask for an audience?"

"Certainly," he said, raising his eyebrows slightly. And then, with the merest ghost of a smile, "Would you care to take a walk with me? The gardens are lovely."

Bellatrix flushed. "I would be honoured."

"Rodolphus, you may sit down. Your wife and I will return in time."

Rodolphus looked between Bellatrix and the Dark Lord, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Bellatrix was too preoccupied to bother reacting, but the Dark Lord met Rodolphus's stare calmly.

"Is there something you would like to say to me, Rodolphus?"

"Of course not, my Lord," said Rodolphus, dropping his eyes and bowing. He took a seat in a straight-backed chair, and watched as the Dark Lord led Bellatrix out into the gardens.

The sun had just set, and the air was still warm. A half-moon hung in the velvety blue sky, and the shadows it cast made the gardens look otherworldly and eerie.

"Your husband is a fine Death Eater," said the Dark Lord, strolling along the path. Bellatrix followed.

"I am glad you think so, Sir," Bellatrix said. She wasn't sure just how to ask for what she wanted. This would be the time to bring it up, but she couldn't think just how.

They walked in silence for some minutes, then the Dark Lord abruptly stopped, next to a garden bench, and a red rosebush. He turned to her.

"Bellatrix – may I call you Bellatrix?"

"Of course you may, Sir. I would be honoured."

"Then, what is it that has been on your mind, Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix couldn't meet his eyes. She did admire the aesthetic, though. The Dark Lord standing before her, framed by the roses, with the bench at his side. She wouldn't lie to herself; she thought him quite attractive.

"You wanted to talk to me. Now talk. Tell me what has been bothering you."

Bellatrix sat down on the garden bench, and folded her hands in her lap, twisting them together as hard as she could.

"I would like to join the Death Eaters," she said at last.

There was a pause, and then the Dark Lord laughed, mirthlessly.

"_You_ would like to join the Death Eaters? A woman? You would be killed within days!"

"I wouldn't, I know I could help you!" She stood back up, so that she could look him in the eye. "I would be faithful to you forever! I would–"

"A woman's place is not on the battlefield," he said. "Women should stay where they belong, and that is in the house, in pretty gardens, and in the bedroom."

"But–"

"You do realize, don't you, Bellatrix, just how skilled at magic you would have to be to last among the Death Eaters?"

"I can handle a wand," Bellatrix snapped.

"I'm sure that you can."

Bellatrix winced at the double meaning he injected into her words.

"Well, we shall see." His blood-tinted eyes glittered cruelly. "Perhaps you do have some potential. Do something to prove your loyalty, and I may reconsider."

"Anything! I'll do anything!"

"Will you." He considered her and she flushed. Looking for a distraction, she plucked a rose from the bush and twirled it. A thorn stabbed her finger.

"Oh, damn." Bellatrix dropped the rose on the bench and examined her fingertip.

"Let me," said the Dark Lord. He took her hand and looked at the drop of blood pooling on it. Bellatrix's breath quickened. This was far more intimate than she was comfortable with.

A crimson bead rolled off the mark and slid slowly down Bellatrix's finger.

"It isn't serious," he said, catching the blood with his own fingertip. "Just a… prick."

Bellatrix ran her tongue slowly around her lips. There was nothing about this that should be erotic. Narcissa had held her hand like this a thousand times. This should not be any different–

The Dark Lord raised her hand, and flicked his tongue over the cut. Bellatrix's breath caught.

"Sir?"

"I trust you don't object, Bellatrix."

"I… I am married…"

"Forgive me for not being familiar with marriage contracts," the Dark Lord said, smirking a little, "but I was not aware that they included a clause that prohibited women from having their injuries treated by men who are not their husbands."

"They… they don't, but…"

"Then I see no reason why Rodolphus has anything to do with this." He raised her hand again, and put her finger in his mouth.

"I wouldn't call this an orthodox method of treating injury," Bellatrix managed.

"The bleeding has stopped, hasn't it?"

He drew her finger out of his mouth and dropped her hand. She looked at her hand. It was true, the blood wasn't dripping out anymore.

"That's true, Sir. It isn't that–"

"Were you thinking of something else?" he asked, sneering at her. Bellatrix looked away. She had been caught. _A married woman should not have thoughts like this about other men._

"I may have been…" She glanced up at him through her lashes, judging his reaction.

"You, Bellatrix," he smirked, "are a very bold woman."

"It's because I am bold that I would make a good Death Eater," she reminded him.

"Quite so, Bellatrix."

He considered her, then put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her into a kneeling position, seating himself on the edge of the bench.

"What–"

He silenced her with a sharp look, then picked up the rose she had dropped. He took another from the bush, and then a third, and twisted them into a wreath and set it delicately in her hair.

"Not bad at all," he said, admiring the effect. "You could be quite pretty, you know, Bellatrix."

"I like to think I _am_ quite pretty," she said, knowing she was treading on thin ice.

"My, you _are_ bold," he mocked. "And you claim you would be so devoted. Why don't you show me just what you would do for my cause?" He put his hand on her head, pressing on her thorny crown. The barbs drove into her scalp, and she gasped.

"I've told you, I would do anything–"

"So you've said. I am merely going to put you to the test."

Slowly – _oh, so much more slowly than she would have liked_ – he moved to unfasten his robes.

Bellatrix's heart skipped a beat. Was he really going to…

"If you please me," he said, "then I will have you marked. You will become a Death Eater."

He finished undoing his robes, revealing his erection, and Bellatrix gasped softly. Had she really done that to him? The Dark Lord, and she had aroused him?

"Now, Bellatrix."

This was wrong. She couldn't. To pleasure anyone, even the Dark Lord, to get what she wanted would make her no better than a whore.

"We don't have all night, Bellatrix. Your husband will be waiting for you."

But she so wanted to be a Death Eater. And it would have been a lie to say that this didn't arouse her.

Bellatrix leaned forward, slowly and carefully, and gently blew on his cock before she wrapped her lips around it. She rubbed her tongue gently against the head, and then slid along his shaft, taking him as far in as she could without gagging, and wrapping her hand around what she couldn't reach with her mouth.

She gave a tentative suck, and was rewarded, hearing the Dark Lord exhale sharply.

"Again," he said. Bellatrix moved her mouth down a little, then drew her head back slowly, dragging her tongue along the underside. His cock throbbed in response, and he sighed.

"Not bad," he muttered, winding his hand in her hair and pressing the roses between his palm and her head. "Suck harder. Make me come, Bellatrix."

She moaned around his cock, and felt him twitch in response.

Bellatrix's heart was hammering against her rib cage. All she wanted was to please him. It filled her with desire to hear the Dark Lord like this, hear his heavy breaths and quiet groans. When he pressed the thorns into her scalp, the tiny stabs sent ripples of lust through her, and she couldn't tell whether the tiny drops of water pooling at the corners of her eyes were those of pain or desire. He was throbbing, and at his instruction she sucked deeply, pushing her mouth up and down the shaft, massaged the base with one hand, and stroked his balls with the other.

The Dark Lord moaned loudly one more time, and his whole body jerked. He wrenched at the roses in her hair, the thorns scoring across her scalp. Bellatrix responded by letting her teeth run across his shaft, and pushing it as deeply as she could into her mouth. Hot liquid spilled across Bellatrix's tongue, and she drank it down eagerly, sucking and gulping his seed.

"Yes… _yes_…" he groaned, shuddering with his release. Bellatrix swirled her tongue around the head one last time, then pulled back, tilted her head, and rested her chin on his knee.

"How was that?" she purred.

The Dark Lord was silent for a moment, then said, "You may call me "Master", or "My Lord". You will be marked on the next full moon. And you will not bed your husband anymore. I expect you in my chambers tomorrow night. If you continue to please me, you will be rewarded. You may go."

Bellatrix stood up slowly, carefully extricating the roses from her hair. They were tangled with her black curls, and blood was congealing on the thorns where they had cut her. When she had all three roses out, she buried her nose in the petals, gazing at the Dark Lord – _her Master, now_ – through lowered lashes. She was desperately aroused, her body pulsating with need for this man, but she just backed away, smiling seductively over the roses. She could slake her own lust later – she wasn't about to show the Dark Lord just how much desire she had for him.

She had gone into the garden with the intention of becoming a Death Eater. And she was coming out, not only a Death Eater, but as the Dark Lord's lover.

It was far better than what she had bargained for.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: Well, thank you for your response. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. Makes me feel a little less strange. Reviews still appreciated (since writing this is radically unfamiliar territory).

This week's chosen prompt: Orgasm denial

Warnings: Bondage, self-pleasure, and… er… orgasm denial

)O(

"What did you and the Dark Lord talk about?" Rodolphus asked his wife when she returned to the house, roses in hand, still trembling with want.

Bellatrix glanced over her shoulder at the Dark Lord, who had followed her into the house. He inclined his head slightly, and touched his forearm.

She turned back to her husband, and a grin broke across her face.

"I'm going to be made a Death Eater!" she all but squealed, the excitement – combined with suppressed dopamine – finally getting the better of her.

Rodolphus's eyebrows raised, and he looked to his Lord for confirmation.

The Dark Lord nodded. "Bellatrix will make a good follower."

"But, my Lord!" Rodolphus protested. "She is a woman!"

"I am well aware of that, Lestrange," the Dark Lord said coolly.

Rodolphus flushed. "It would not be safe to give a woman such power as a Death Eater has!"

"Worried, Lestrange?" The Dark Lord appraised Rodolphus with a cruel, sardonic smile. "Afraid your wife will upstage you?"

Bellatrix laughed breathlessly at her husband's embarrassment. "And well you should be!"

The Dark Lord joined her in laughing, his quiet chuckle augmenting Bellatrix's shriek of mirth. "Indeed."

A muscle twitched in Rodolphus's jaw, and he forced a smile. "Apologies, my Lord. Welcome to the circle, Bellatrix." Then, a spark coming back into his eyes, "We should celebrate." He put a hand on the small of his wife's back, drew her towards him.

"I think you will find that you will not be… _celebrating_ with your wife, Lestrange," the Dark Lord said, a little laughter still in his voice.

Rodolphus's jaw dropped, and he let go of Bellatrix. "What?"

"How to put this delicately…" The Dark Lord took his wand from the pocket of his robes, and ran his long, thin fingers along it. "You and Bellatrix will no longer be… living as man and wife."

"But… but why–"

"I don't believe I need to explain myself to you, Lestrange."

"But my Lord–"

"We will not be discussing this further, Lestrange. Take Bellatrix home."

Bellatrix looked back and forth between her husband and her Lord. She was giddy, with excitement over becoming a Death Eater, with knowing that the Dark Lord was arguing on her behalf, and with her lust as well.

"Oh, and Lestrange?"

"Yes, my Lord?" Rodolphus said, through gritted teeth, and an expression that said _what else can he say to me, what else?_

"If Bellatrix tells me you haven't been abiding by my orders," he said, his voice calm and almost sweet, "then you will wish you had never been born."

"Yes, my Lord," said Rodolphus grudgingly. His hands were balled into fists, and Bellatrix knew her husband well enough to be able to tell he was choking back fury, but he managed to keep his face from showing it.

Rodolphus didn't look at her when they apparated back home. He didn't look at her as they undressed, and prepared for bed.

"Rodolphus?" she asked tentatively, as she climbed into the bed they shared.

"What the Hell is this about?" Rodolphus asked, and she was taken aback by the anger in his voice.

"Is what about?" asked Bellatrix.

"This. Where does the Dark Lord get off telling me I can't have my own wife?"

Bellatrix laughed. "You should consider your word choice a little better, Rod."

"I'm dead serious, Bella. He has no right to–"

"He has every right to! He is the Dark Lord!"

"You aren't a Death Eater yet, Bellatrix! You don't know our ways! The Dark Lord does not pry into the private lives of his followers! He never told your sister to stop bedding Lucius!"

"Narcissa didn't want to be a Death Eater," Bellatrix said calmly.

"You could at least have the decency not to sleep in this bed," growled Rodolphus.

"It's my bed as much as yours," she reminded him.

He snarled impatiently and turned over so he didn't have to look at her anymore.

Bellatrix waited a few minutes, then spread her legs and put her fingers to her clit. She let out a shuddering breath, and rubbed a little, legs twitching with little spasms of pleasure.

"Mmm…" She was sinking into fantasy, dark, twisted fantasy, herself and the Dark Lord…

He was mounting her, pinning her down with a hand over her throat, driving his cock into her. His cool hands caressed every inch of her body, his hissing voice in her ear… she tilted her hips and pressed two fingers into her cunt.

"M…_ my L… oh…_" She was close, so close, almost there, wanted release, needed release–

"Not bloody likely, Bella."

Bellatrix's hands were wrenched from between her legs, pinned above her head. Her eyes flew open, and she cried out in surprise and anger.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing Rodolphus!" She writhed on the bed, trying both to wrench her wrists out of her husband's grasp and channel her frustration into hurting him.

"If I'm not allowed to fuck you, I'm sure as Hell not going to lie here and listen to you fuck yourself!"

"Let go of me, you bastard!"

Rodolphus grabbed his wand and flicked it. Ropes flew from the end, binding her wrists to the bedpost.

"What the Hell are you doing?"

"Just making sure that, since the Dark Lord seems to want you pure, you _are_ being pure."

She pulled her legs up towards her chest, bending and twisting, trying to find some relief.

"Maybe I should tie your legs down too," Rodolphus snarled. "Tie you so tightly you can't move at all, and you'll just have to lie there and feel how much it hurts…"

"Rod, don't, please let me–"

He grabbed her ankles, pulled her legs straight, and used his wand to tie secure them to the foot of the bed.

"That's better," he said.

"Just wait until the Dark Lord–"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, dear Bella, but I believe he said we couldn't – what was his phrase? Live as man and wife. At no point did he say I couldn't tie you up."

She let out a long, wordless scream.

"Don't worry, Bellatrix," he said, smiling cruelly. "I'll untie you in the morning. But for now, I think I'll just go to sleep."

He rolled over again, so his back was to her, and left his wife to snarl and pant, and try to ease herself down from her near-climax.

She'd get him for this.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: I'm going to be doing at least one more chapter this week, possibly two because I really liked this week's three prompts. Um, I hope you like it…

This week's (chapter's) chosen prompt: First time

Warnings: Sex. Just plain, straight-up sex.

)O(

"My Lord."

"My Lord."

"My Lord."

Bellatrix watched nervously as each Death Eater approached the Dark Lord, knelt at his feet, then stood up and took their seat.

"My Lord."

"My Lord."

Rodolphus glanced at his wife before approaching the Dark Lord.

"My Lord."

Now there was only Bellatrix. Each man was at his seat, and they were all watching her.

She stepped forward, trying to force herself to look at ease. She dipped down, knelt, leaning forward, bowing over. She was aware that at this angle, the Dark Lord would be looking down the front of her dress.

"My Lord."

Bellatrix rose, and looked nervously at him.

The Dark Lord tilted his head, indicating one of the only remaining two chairs, the last one along the right-hand side of the table, next to his own at the head.

She sat down, glancing around at the other Death Eaters, all of them male, who were watching her with looks of confusion, interest, and unadulterated disbelief on their faces.

The Dark Lord took his seat, then began.

"As you have no doubt noticed," he said, voice calm and cool, and enough to make Bellatrix's stomach swoop, "we have a new addition to our group. Bellatrix Lestrange."

"What is she going to be doing here?" sneered a man Bellatrix recognized as Antonin Dolohov.

"Probably it depends on how well _we_ do," Lucius Malfoy smirked. "The better we serve, the better she serves."

Rodolphus's fists clenched, and he snarled quietly at Lucius, who raised his eyebrows in mild amusement at his reaction.

"Bellatrix will not be serving as your whore," said the Dark Lord, calmly. "If I recall correctly, you already have her sister in any case, Malfoy."

"If not a whore," said Dolohov, "then what?"

"A Death Eater," the Dark Lord said, smiling condescendingly at Dolohov.

There was an instant murmur of protest.

"A _woman_, my Lord?" asked a man Bellatrix didn't recognize. "Surely not!"

"Are you questioning me?" the Dark Lord responded.

People quieted, glanced at each other as though they were all saying _I wasn't questioning him. Were you questioning him?_

"Bellatrix is a very fine woman, and she will make an equally fine Death Eater," he said, pressing his long, white hands to the table and leaning forward. "And if anyone would care to dispute the point…"

No one said anything.

"Good," said the Dark Lord. "Now, we must discuss…"

)O(

The meeting was a long monologue from the Dark Lord, explaining some intricate plan about the assassination of some Ministry official. If she was honest, Bellatrix didn't get much out of the meeting in terms of content.

The Dark Lord announced the end of the meeting by abruptly standing and saying, "You are dismissed. Bellatrix, come with me. Rodolphus, you may go. Your wife and I have much to discuss."

A muscle in Rodolphus's jaw twitched, and he forced himself to smile and bow. "As you say, my Lord."

The Dark Lord waited while his Death Eaters made their exit, and Bellatrix hovered by his side, unsure quite what to do.

When all the Death Eaters had gone, the Dark Lord nodded at Bellatrix, and swept towards the door. Bellatrix hurried after him, following him out of the meeting room, up a flight of stairs, and – her heart missed several beats – into a bedroom.

He shut the door behind her, and raised his eyebrows at Bellatrix.

"Your first Death Eater meeting," he said. "Was it everything you expected it to be, my Bellatrix?"

"It was…" Bellatrix searched for the words, then shook her head. "I am honoured that you have given me the opportunity to be a Death Eater."

"As well you should be," he said lightly. "But enough of this. Undress, my Bellatrix."

"Pardon?"

"Undress, Bellatrix. Undress."

"Don't you want to…"

"No. Undress. I want to see what I will be getting."

Bellatrix nodded, and set about removing her clothing. The Dark Lord watched with mild interest.

She peeled off the last of her undergarments and lay them on the ground. His undisguised stare made her squirm, half with embarrassment, and half with lust. Bellatrix put both hands over her breasts to cover them, and turned her hips away from him, crossing one thigh over the other. It hardly made a difference to what he could see, but at least she felt less stupid than if she was just standing there, looking at him looking at her.

She peered at him from under lowered lashes, equally begging him to look away and to come closer.

The Dark Lord appraised her for a moment, then a smile crawled across his face.

"Lay down," he said, indicating the bed.

Bellatrix ran her tongue around her lips. She moved backwards, and settled on the bed, and looked up at her Lord.

"Hands off your breasts," he said, and she complied, reluctantly uncovering her chest, and balling her hands in the black silk covers instead.

"And legs apart."

Bellatrix swallowed, and gave a tiny nod, opening herself for her Lord.

"Lovely."

Bellatrix waited, breathless. The arousal that had been simmering just beneath the surface for twenty-four hours now was bubbling up now.

The Dark Lord shed his robes, and Bellatrix watched him hungrily. Her muscles twitched involuntarily.

He stood at the foot of the bed, admiring her.

"My Lord?" she breathed. Her cunt was dripping, she knew, with proof of her desire.

"Patience, my Bella," he told her. His fingers ran up the inside of her legs, then dipped into the thick, black curls between them.

Her breath caught, and she let out a tiny moan.

The Dark Lord slowly lowered himself over her, and Bellatrix lifted her hips in entreaty. She wanted this so badly, _needed_ this…

"I know what you can do with your mouth," he whispered in her ear, "but what can you do with your cunt?"

Her cheeks burned at his words, and she couldn't help rubbing her pelvis against his, trying to urge him to _hurry up and get inside her for God's sake_…

When he finally did, a short, rough shriek was torn from Bellatrix's throat, and she rubbed against him, no mind for propriety.

"Master," she managed, pushing her hips against his.

"Tight as a virgin," he murmured, thrusting hard into her. "If I didn't know better, my Bellatrix, I would think this was your first time."

"M… ma…" She couldn't even form words. All she could think was how _good_ it felt to be like this, pinned to the bed, her Lord atop her. She ought to _thank_ Rodolphus for tying her up last night, all the lust she had been feeling since the first moment she had laid her eyes on the Dark Lord's cock was burning in her. In fact…

"_Master_,' she choked, as her body seized. Her cunt clamped down around her Lord, and she moaned and writhed beneath him.

"Oh, you _are_ a pretty thing," he groaned, pumping in and out of her as hard as he could. "Very, very– _Ah_!"

Bellatrix cried out, tears of pleasure springing to her eyes as her Master's come filled her.

The Dark Lord panted, gasped, thrust wildly, and finally lay still, resting his head on Bellatrix's heaving breast.

"My Lord…" she near-sobbed, as he pulled out and rolled off of her. "God, my Lord…"

The Dark Lord climbed off the bed. "Bellatrix?"

"Well… just that…" She sat up, trying to catch her breath. "That was…"

"Was what, Bella?"

"Was… It was like nothing I've ever had before." She dragged herself off the bed, catching at the wall to stop her legs from completely giving out under her. "I mean, it was…"

"You may stop trying to describe it," he said, cooly amused. "There is a shower through that door there. Go wash up."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: Erm, I guess this chapter is sort of short on actual sex. I'm trying to sort of move the plot along (Well, what plot there is).

Anyway, thanks for your support. Enjoy...

Chosen prompt: In the shower

Warnings: Heavy touching, oral sex.

)O(

Bellatrix nodded, and walked slowly backwards, away from her Master even as she kept her eyes on him. At last, she reached the door he had indicated, and stepped into the bathroom. Her legs buckled, and she grabbed the edge of the sink to stop from falling to the ground.

Her whole body was buzzing, and she could scarcely see straight, she was so dopamine-addled.

_Go wash up_.

Yes, she should wash up. Rodolphus would smell the Dark Lord on her otherwise.

Bellatrix turned on the shower, stepped under the warm jets of water, sank to the floor of the shower stall, unable to stand anymore.

_Oh, Master_.

She moaned, leaned her head against the cold tile, still lost in the hazy aftermath. She was still hungry for him, still craved him. Almost without her knowledge, her hand moved between her legs, working at the sensitive flesh. The water spilled across her breasts, belly, and between her open thighs, washing the taste and scent of her Master away.

"Thinking of me, Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix opened her eyes, though she didn't stop rubbing at herself.

"I could think about you forever," she said breathlessly.

"Stand up," the Dark Lord told her with a smirk. She complied, clutching at the sides of the shower to steady herself.

He stepped under the water, which streamed over his pale flesh, and pushed Bellatrix against the wall, pinning her between the cool tile and his equally cool body.

"My Lord…"

"You didn't think I would finish with you so fast, did you, my Bellatrix?" he hissed in her ear.

"Well," she whispered, "you did lead me to believe…"

"Oh no, Bella, I'm nowhere near done with you."

The Dark Lord pressed her to the wall, and slid his hand between her thighs, dragging his fingertips over her slit.

His mouth came down over hers, and his tongue prodded into it, while his fingers explored her cunt, delicately probing at the flesh. Before, the Dark Lord had been too hurried to fully appreciate her, and Bellatrix too crazed with lust to enjoy his touch. She sighed and sank against him, quivering with sheer delight.

"Wet… hot… tight…" he murmured into her mouth. "Lovely. Did your husband tell you how perfect you are? If how upset he was when I told him he couldn't have you anymore was any indication, he certainly thinks it."

The Dark Lord's mention of Rodolphus brought the memory of being tied up back to Bellatrix's mind. She growled softly.

"Oh, yes," he hissed, misinterpreting her growl. "You like that, do you?"

"Rodolphus," she snarled, shaking her head. "Rodolphus… last night he…"

"He didn't disobey my orders." It was a statement, not a question.

Bellatrix didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to explain what Rodolphus had done to her without sounding childish.

"He…" she bit her lips. "I don't know how to say it…"

"Ah. I see." The Dark Lord pulled back, smirked at her a little.

_Thank God for legilimency._

"It was nothing, my Lord." Bellatrix shook her head, leaned forward to try to kiss him again. "Unimportant."

"No, my Bellatrix, it was most certainly important," he said. "Your husband had no right to do that. Your body no longer belongs to him. He should be taught that."

"It never belonged to him!"

"Quite, Bellatrix, it was yours until you gave it to me."

She didn't protest, just reached for him.

"Master–"

"No, no, my Bellatrix. Rodolphus needs to be punished."

"Doesn't matter–"

"You will find that _I_ am the one who will say whether or not something matters." His voice had gone suddenly cold.

Bellatrix pulled back, dipped her head. "Of course, my Lord."

"As to your dear husband… I believe I have a most fitting punishment for him." He smirked. "No need to worry your pretty head about it any longer. Just be sure he's at the meeting tomorrow night."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Now, no more talk of Rodolphus," he said. "I told you that I would reward you if you pleased me, and I intend to keep that promise."

The Dark Lord pressed his mouth over hers, then trailed down, licking the water from the shower off her breasts and stomach. On her already wet skin, his tongue felt wonderfully rough, yet soft.

When he reached the V of black curls between her legs, Bellatrix lifted one leg, propped the foot on the wall, opened her knee outwards to give him the best access she could to her cunt. He drew his tongue along her slit, and laughed quietly.

"You taste just as good as you feel," he told her. Bellatrix moaned, clung to the walls. The water streamed over her breasts, down on either side of her Lord's face, while he licked her.

"Master..."

He lifted his head away from her, shook it. "Don't talk, my Bellatrix."

She nodded, shut her eyes, and focussed on trying to keep standing.


	5. Chapter 5

Warnings: exhibitionism, graphic sex

)O(

"You are dismissed. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, stay here. I would like a word with you."

The meeting over, the rest of the Death Eaters stood and left the room, most of them looking at the Lestranges with envy, some with suspicion, and a few avoiding eye contact completely.

The Dark Lord waited until all his Death Eaters, save Bellatrix and Rodolphus, had left the room. Then he stood, and shut the door. Bellatrix suppressed a grin. The Dark Lord had promised that Rodolphus would be punished, and she looked forward to it immensely.

"Now, Rodolphus," the Dark Lord said silkily, walking slowly from the door over to the Lestranges. "What's this I hear about you and your wife?"

"Pardon, my Lord?" Rodolphus said, trying to sound innocent. His hands tightened on the arms of his chair, much as though he was obviously straining not to show his nervousness.

"Well, I heard that you took certain… liberties with Bellatrix, two nights ago now." The Dark Lord was standing behind Rodolphus's chair now, resting his hands on the back of it. Bellatrix looked on breathlessly, not sure quite what her Lord was planning.

"Did Bellatrix say that?" Rodolphus asked, his face completely expressionless.

The Dark Lord was momentarily silent. Then he said, "You and your wife are very close, are you not? Bellatrix is very dear to you."

"I… I love my wife as well as any husband should."

"It bothers you I have ordered you not to lie with her."

"It… I suppose…"

"She arouses you."

"I am married to her."

"I _know_ that, Rodolphus. You aren't answering my question."

Rodolphus looked helplessly to Bellatrix, who was watching the Dark Lord, wondering what he was planning.

"Of course she arouses me," Rodolphus muttered, looking at the table.

"You don't want to… have to _share_ her," the Dark Lord smirked, mockingly.

"No one would."

"Quite so," said the Dark Lord. "No one _would_ want to share her."

"Of course not, my Lord."

"So you understand," the Dark Lord hissed, leaning down close to Rodolphus's ear, "why you are not permitted to have Bellatrix."

"I don't know what you mean…"

Bellatrix squirmed in her seat, leaned towards the two men, watching them hungrily.

"You know exactly what I mean," the Dark Lord told Rodolphus, one of his long, pale hands caressing the back of Rodolphus's chair. "You would not want to share Bellatrix with any other man. Neither do I."

Rodolphus shut his eyes, his worst fears confirmed, and Bellatrix knew he was resisting the urge to show any emotion.

"I understand, Master," Rodolphus said, opened his eyes again, looking straight ahead.

"Not if what you did to your wife is any indication," hissed the Dark Lord. "Now, you really oughtn't test the Dark Lord's patience like that."

Rodolphus ran his tongue around his lips, eyes betraying the first hint of fear, though he continued to try to keep his face smooth and expressionless.

"Bellatrix," the Dark Lord continued, looking to her, "would you say that Rodolphus needs to be punished?"

"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix said, inching forward in her chair. _The Cruciatus curse, perhaps? Oh, this _will_ be lovely…_

The Dark Lord flicked his wand lightly, and ropes shot from the end, binding Rodolphus to the chair as tightly as Bellatrix hat been tied to the bed two nights ago.

"My Lord?" Rodolphus's eyes widened, and he strained to free himself.

"You were wondering if I had indeed lain with your wife, weren't you? It was all you could think about, all through the meeting."

"It is none of my concern, my Lord–"

"Don't lie!" The Dark Lord raised his voice slightly. "Lying is a sin, Lestrange!" He paused, let out a long, slow breath. When he spoke again, his voice was calm and controlled once more. "Since you're so curious… I suppose we could let you in, don't you think, Bellatrix?"

"Pardon, my Lord?" Bellatrix was confused. She didn't want Rodolphus to be "let in" on their affair.

"Get on the table, Bellatrix."

She stood up, climbed onto the long table, knelt nervously before her Lord and her husband.

"My Lord?"

The Dark Lord swept around Rodolphus's chair, smirked at Bellatrix. "Lie down, my Bellatrix."

She complied, stretching out on the table before the two men, a tiny smile forming on her face.

The Dark Lord put one hand lightly on Bellatrix's corseted midriff, swept it up to caress the curve of her breast. Bellatrix was breathing heavily, on a high of excitement, as her Lord leaned close and whispered in her ear.

"I told you I would have a fitting punishment for your husband," he hissed.

He climbed onto the table, knelt between Bellatrix's legs.

"My Lord, please," whispered Rodolphus, horrorstruck. "Don't–"

"Bellatrix, your husband seems to take issue with his punishment. He ought to be pleased, don't you think, my Bellatrix?"

"He should be very pleased," Bellatrix purred, watching Rodolphus out of the corner of her eye while her Master caressed her.

"My Lord," Rodolphus repeated, struggling against his bonds, "I'll do anything, but please, please don't make me watch–"

"Silence," said the Dark Lord, not taking his eyes off Bellatrix's heaving breast. "You will watch, and you will enjoy."

"Lord, _please–_"

The Dark Lord slipped his hands up Bellatrix's skirt, stroked at the damp fabric of her knickers. Bellatrix moaned and squirmed.

"Master," she said breathlessly. "Oh, Master, please…"

"You want me, my Bellatrix?" he asked, slipping his fingers beneath her knickers.

"I want you ever so much, my Lord," Bellatrix told him, still keeping one eye on Rodolphus.

The Dark Lord pulled his fingers away, and set about unlacing her boots. Bellatrix lifted her feet, and moaned softly. Like having the Dark Lord examine her hand, having him remove her shoes was erotic, though it shouldn't have been.

He set the boots aside, peeled her stockings and knickers off, rolled up her skirt.

"Oh, _Master_," Bellatrix murmured, "_please_…"

"Please what, my Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix smirked, spreading her legs apart, arching her back and lifting her hips. "Please, Master, take me…"

"Do you act like this for your husband, my Bellatrix?" the Dark Lord asked, leaning over her, though not allowing their bodies to touch.

"No, Master, never. Only for you."

Rodolphus made a tiny, strangled cry.

"You're only a slut for me, then?"

"Don't call her a slut!" Rodolphus protested, wrenching at the arms of the chair. Bellatrix laughed, wrapped her legs around her Master.

"Oh, but she is a slut," the Dark Lord hissed, keeping his eyes on Bellatrix. "Aren't you, my Bellatrix? You're my slut."

"I am your slut," Bellatrix agreed, pushing herself upwards, and speaking into her Master's ear. "As long as you want me to be."

"Bella, don't do this," Rodolphus begged. "You're debasing yourself for him, Bella, you're acting like a whore when we both know you aren't!"

"My Bellatrix, I think that your husband is a little confused about what it means to be a whore," the Dark Lord said lightly. He reached under the neckline of her dress and rolled her nipple between his long, cool fingers. "Do you know what a whore is, my Bellatrix?"

"A woman who sells herself in return for something she wants," Bellatrix said, smiling wickedly.

"And what have you done, my Bellatrix?"

"I've given myself to you in return for status as a Death Eater," Bellatrix told him.

"So that makes you?"

"A whore," she said immediately. "I am a whore, my Lord."

"Quite so."

He propped himself up on strong arms over her, and Bellatrix unfastened his robes with fumbling fingers, letting them fall open. The Dark Lord smirked at her, and at Rodolphus, then lowered himself over her. Bellatrix pressed her hips up at an angle, and moaned ecstatically as her Master took her.

"You are so deliciously _wet_, my Bellatrix," he said, so calmly that if she hadn't seen the lust darkening his eyes, she wouldn't have known that he felt anything at all.

Bellatrix had no such restraint. "Oh _Master_," she groaned, undulating against him. "_Yes_… oh!"

"You like that, my Bellatrix?" the Dark Lord hissed, pushing hard into her.

"Oh _yes_, Master, I– oh, Merlin, again!"

He thrust again, and Bellatrix gave a breathless half-shriek. He was wonderfully hard, and with every stroke his cock dragged along tremor-inducing spots inside her. Having her husband's eyes on them aroused Bellatrix even more, and she writhed and moaned, knowing that with her every motion she was cutting Rodolphus to the core.

The Dark Lord licked at her throat, ran his tongue over every inch of exposed skin on her neck, her collarbone, her chest where it was revealed by the deep V of her dress. Bellatrix tugged down the neckline, over her white breasts, slick with her sweat. The Dark Lord groaned softly, buried his face in them, all the while thrusting hard. Bellatrix's body buckled with every stroke, and she moaned. "Oh, Master, oh, my _Lord_."

He dug his teeth into her nipple, and Bellatrix resisted the urge to clutch at his head and push it into her. She arched her back instead, pressing into the feeling.

"Yes, yes Bella," he managed through a mouthful of her breast. He tilted her hips up, put one hand to her, and with a skilled twist of his fingers on her clit, sent Bellatrix spinning into an ecstatic frenzy.

She jerked and writhed under her Master, pinned to the table by his strong body, and she heard him groaning as she clenched down on him.

"Oh Hell, I'm close," he snarled. "Yes, yes, my slut, my dirty little whore–"

He pulled out, and clambered forward, rubbing his cock hard, back and forth, over her, until he shouted with pleasure, and his come splattered across Bellatrix's heaving breasts.

"Lick!" he ordered, and Bellatrix pushed her breasts up, eagerly lapping his seed off herself. The Dark Lord joined in, sucking his come off her flesh, letting his teeth graze the pale skin.

"Beautiful whore, beautiful dirty slut," he hissed, finally laying his head to rest on her.

Bellatrix shut her eyes, but snapped them back open at the sound of Rodolphus's strangled sob.

"Bella–" he whispered. "Why?"

Bellatrix giggled, actually _giggled_, she was so high on dopamine. The Dark Lord climbed off her and did up his robes, smirking.

"I told you that your husband would be punished," he said to Bellatrix, ignoring Rodolphus entirely. He pinched her breast one more time, then slid off the table. Bellatrix sat up, tugging her dress back into place.

"Thank you ever so, Master," she purred.

The Dark Lord smirked at her, and started for the door.

"Why," Rodolphus said, his voice breaking. "Bellatrix, he doesn't love you, you know that, why are you _doing_ this?"

"Oh shut up," Bellatrix snapped. She picked up her wand and flicked it in Rodolphus's direction, freeing her husband's wrists. "Besides, I know you liked it."

"I didn't!"

Bellatrix leaned forward, and pressed her hand into the front of his trousers, against the bulge there.

"You did," she whispered. "So shut the Hell up."

"You bitch," Rodolphus snarled, his face contorting in fury.

"Don't talk to her like that," the Dark Lord said, from the doorway.

"You called her far worse!"

"Ah, but I am the Dark Lord," he said, smiling coldly. "And you are… an inbred bastard who Bellatrix only married because her family wanted her to."

"Why would you do this to me when I've been such a faithful follower?" Rodolphus asked, standing up and facing the Dark Lord, who looked at him with an expression of cold amusement.

"Because I want her, Lestrange," he sneered. "And the Dark Lord always gets what he wants."


	6. Chapter 6

Chosen prompt: Jewellery

Warnings: Self-pleasure, oral sex, breath-play

)O(

Rodolphus had sat in the meeting room for a long time after Bellatrix had gone away with the Dark Lord. He hoped that by the time he left, the Death Eaters would have gone as well, and no one would be there to witness his humiliation.

He crossed his arms on the table and laid his head on them, pressing his face into the fabric of his sleeves.

_I will not cry. I will not cry over her. A few tears are not the same as crying. I'm not crying, I'm just… Oh, fuck it, I'm crying_.

Rodolphus had served his Master faithfully, all this time. He had been a Death Eater so much longer than Bellatrix, and he had done well. And how was he rewarded? By having to watch his wife, his beautiful, perfect wife, spread her legs for the Dark Lord.

From the day they had married, Bellatrix had made it clear to Rodolphus that she was his equal – nay, his _superior_ – and should be treated as such. He had complied, had been as good a husband to her as he knew how, had been unerringly faithful, had let her be on top, order him around, do exactly as she pleased. He had never, not until two nights ago, denied her anything, and not until that night had he actually _insulted_ her. And she chose the Dark Lord, who told her she was a whore, and–

_Oh, god._

The sight of Bellatrix sucking another man's seed off her tits was one that was burned permanently into Rodolphus's brain. And, though he didn't like to admit it… the thought of it made him sick with lust.

_Why didn't she ever do that for me?_

He lifted his head and looked around. The room was empty and the door shut. He could just…

Rodolphus surreptitiously reached under the table, and stroked his aching cock through his robes. He was painfully hard, and all he could see was his wife, her skirt up around her hips and the neck of her dress pulled down… and semen speckling her heaving breasts.

It was disgusting. Bellatrix was disgusting. She was a whore, she was a slut. Rodolphus gripped his cock through his robes, squeezing it and rubbing. The fabric chafed at the sensitive skin, but he didn't care. In fact, the slight scratch, the faint pain, hardened him even more.

_Whore, slut, whore, slut, whore_.

He pushed his hand back and forth, trying to finish quickly so that he could just get the Hell home and fall asleep and forget everything.

_Slut-slut-slut-slut-slut._

He hated her.

_I want her._

He hated her.

_I want her!_

He hated her!

_I want her!_

Rodolphus's body buckled, hot, sticky liquid dripping down onto the floor beneath the table. His hand stilled, and he wiped his brow, laid his head on his arm again.

God, he did hate her.

_I'll make her pay._

)O(

"That was a good punishment for your husband, don't you think, my Bellatrix?" the Dark Lord said lightly, indicating the stairs.

"It was perfect, Master," Bellatrix said. She hurried after him, not looking at the Death Eaters still milling around the door. "I don't know how I can ever thank you."

"I'm sure that you can find a way, my Bellatrix," he said, opening the door to the bedroom.

Bellatrix stepped into the bedroom, and the Dark Lord shut the door behind her.

"You made an excellent whore, my Bellatrix," he said, drawing her fingers over her still-sticky breasts. "You ought to act like that for me more often."

"Oh, happily, Master," she said. "What would you like me to do?"

The Dark Lord didn't answer. Instead, he picked up a string of pearls from a table, and looped it around her neck. He stepped back, and admired the effect of the pearls laying on Bellatrix's breast.

"Lovely," he said. "Purity against sin." He pushed her down to her knees, and Bellatrix was quick to undo his ropes. She glanced at him, for a quick confirmation that she was doing the right thing, then guided his cock into her mouth.

The Dark Lord groaned. All it took was a few minutes of Bellatrix's tongue and lips working over the sensitive head, and he was hard and panting with lust. Bellatrix sucked enthusiastically, eager to thank him for Rodolphus's punishment.

The Dark Lord grabbed onto the pearls from the back and yanked them up. Bellatrix choked at the sudden pressure on her windpipe, and looked up at her Master, tried to pull back.

"Keep going," he told her, but between being the pearls tight around throat and her Master's cock filling her mouth, Bellatrix could scarcely breathe. Stars popped in front of her eyes, and she struggled to pull back. The Dark Lord used his other hand – the one not choking her with the pearls – to shove Bellatrix's head down on his cock. Bellatrix gagged, and wrenched her head away, trying to get air into her lungs.

"Don't!" the Dark Lord ordered. Bellatrix's eyes were starting to tear up, and she was dizzy with the lack of oxygen to her lungs.

_I'm going to faint–_

She braced her hands against the floor, and tried to push herself backwards, off him, but he was stronger than her, and kept her mouth on his cock.

"I told you not to stop!" he snarled, pulling the pearls even tighter, and forcing her head down. "Don't stop!"

Bellatrix couldn't breathe, all she could see were dark spots in front of her eyes, she was faint and dizzy, and her Master wasn't going to let her go.

She bit. Not hard, just grazing him with her teeth, but hard enough to shock.

The Dark Lord yelled, and shoved her away. Bellatrix fell backwards, gasping for breath. When her vision had returned, and she was no longer in a state of panic, she looked up at her Lord.

He had sunk back onto the bed, clutching himself, ashen with the pain.

"Master, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I couldn't breathe, I just–"

"Silence, Bellatrix!"

She dropped her head, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. He would punish her, there was no chance she would ever be marked now, she had ruined everything, and all because she had panicked for a few seconds.

Several long, excruciating minutes passed, the Dark Lord's breathing heavy and pained, and Bellatrix hardly daring to make a sound.

"Stand up, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said. He voice was icy, and there was a note of intense pain. Bellatrix did so, stood in front of him, staring at the ground.

"I'm sorry, Master," she whispered. "Please, forgive me."

"Why did you do that, Bellatrix?"

"I…" She swallowed, and shook her head. "I just… panicked. I couldn't breathe, and I… I'm sorry…"

"Oh no, dear Bella," he said. Bellatrix raised her head and looked at him with surprise. "You acted on instinct. You couldn't breathe, you were in a situation of danger, and you reacted accordingly. The survival instinct is crucial for a Death Eater."

"I… you mean…" Bellatrix shook her head, confused, "you mean I… did the right thing?"

"You did, my Bellatrix, you did." He smiled darkly. "You should always act with self-preservation in mind."

"Really?"

"Yes, my Bellatrix."

"But… I hurt you…"

"Well, of course, now that you have learned this, you should know always to act first with thought to me, and second, with thought to yourself. There is always room for improvement, my Bellatrix. But it was the lesson that was important. If it was anyone but me who was putting you in danger, you should do exactly what you just did. Well," he added, with a slight sneer, "symbolically speaking."

"Yes, Master."

"And keep the pearls. As a reminder."

"Yes, Master."

"Now, go home, my Bellatrix. I've no wish for anything more from you tonight."

"Yes, Master," she said one more time, and bowed out of the room, heart still hammering.

)O(

When Rodolphus finally got home, after a long time spent drinking at the Leaky Cauldron, Bellatrix was already in bed and asleep. Rodolphus stood in the doorway of their bedroom, staring at his wife, and all the anger came back, magnified by alcohol. She was completely naked, wearing only a string of pearls around her neck.

An unfamiliar string of pearls.

Rodolphus felt an unreasonable urge to yank it off her pretty neck. What else did the Dark Lord want to do to him? He had told Rodolphus he couldn't sleep with her, he was sleeping with her instead, he had fucked her while forcing Rodolphus to watch, and now he was giving her _jewellery_? _Why?_

On its own, Rodolphus wouldn't have cared at all about Bellatrix being given a necklace. Lucius had given her a pendant for Christmas last year, for Christ's sake. But the fact that it was a necklace that had been given to her by the Dark Lord, after he had made Rodolphus watch him fuck her… that was too much.

He actually approached her, reached for the necklace with every intention of ripping it off her. But he stopped, hand inches from his neck, clenched his hand into a fist, and drew back.

"Night, Bella," he muttered, turned and left. Better to sleep on the couch. One night sleeping in the same bed as Bellatrix without being able to fuck her was about all he could take.

_I'll make her pay. I'm make the slut pay._


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Notes: Just to remind people who may be confused, Bellatrix has NOT been marked yet. Back in chapter one, Voldemort told her that she would be marked on the next full moon. It was a half moon then, so there's still at least a week before she's marked. She's in a trial period, for want of a better term.

Prompt: Wand

Warnings: S/M, use of a wand for something other than its intended purpose and… more S/M (This is Bellatrix and Voldemort, after all)

)O(

"Rodolphus, Rabastan, take the road to the north. Malfoy, Avery, Nott, to the east. Mulciber, Rookwood the west. Dolohov, stay here. Bellatrix, come with me."

The Death Eaters scattered, spreading out from the intersection they had been standing at, through the web of London alleyways, to find their target. The Dark Lord swept down the southern alley and Bellatrix followed, hand wrapped tightly around the handle of her wand.

They were searching for the Ministry official whose assassination had been discussed at Bellatrix's first meeting. She wasn't entirely sure why this particular official was to be killed, but this was her first mission with the Death Eaters, and Bellatrix was eager to prove that she could be just as strong, as useful, and as ruthless as any man.

The Dark Lord stopped abruptly, and held out his hand, indicating that Bellatrix too should stop. She did, hesitated at his shoulder, looking at him expectantly.

"There's a Mudblood," he whispered. "Close. He's coming home from work, taking a shortcut through the alley."

"Is that important?" Bellatrix whispered.

"It is always important to take a chance to cleanse the wizard race a little more. Wand at the ready, Bellatrix, he's yours."

Bellatrix lifted her wand, pointed it towards the end of the alley, where it opened onto a main street.

"There he is," the Dark Lord breathed, raising his own hand to indicate the person hurrying towards them, still illuminated by the weak light of the streetlamps. "We can see him, he can't see us. Strike, Bellatrix!"

"_Stupefy!_"

The jet of red light caught the surprised Mudblood in the chest and he crumpled.

"Not bad," said the Dark Lord. "But your inclination is to strike with a stunning spell? Can you not do any better than that, my Bellatrix?"

"I got him, didn't I?" Bellatrix ducked past her Lord and approached the Mudblood on the ground.

"A stunning spell is easily deflected by an aware opponent. It is lucky for you that this man – if you can call him that – was not aware."

"Well, what is it you want me to do, my Lord?"

"I can think of several things," he said. "Have you ever used an Unforgivable Curse, my Bellatrix?"

"No," she admitted.

"Have you seen them used?"

"Yes, I've seen Rodolphus use the Imperius Curse."

"Only the Imperius Curse, never the Cruciatus or Avada Kedavra?"

"That's right."

He joined her at the Mudblood's side.

"And you've never used them yourself."

"That's what I said."

He took her wand hand in his, and pointed it at the Mudblood, whose eyes were open. He stared up at Bellatrix and the Dark Lord in horror.

The Dark Lord eased the wand out of Bellatrix's hand and pointed it.

"_Crucio_," he said.

The Mudblood's body jerked, twisted, lifted itself off the ground, and he screamed. Bellatrix watched, first in horror, then with growing excitement.

"Doesn't he look lovely, Bella?" the Dark Lord whispered in Bellatrix's ear. "Look at him, writhing and shaking there, isn't it beautiful? Wouldn't you like to be able to do that to someone, my Bellatrix?"

She nodded, and the Dark Lord passed her wand back to her.

"Try it then, my Bellatrix," he whispered. "Try it."

She gripped her wand, pointed it at the Mudblood. She took several long deep breaths, trying to work up the nerve to cast the spell.

"Are you scared, Bella?" the Dark Lord whispered in her ear. "Scared of causing pain? Scared of having all that power?"

"No…"

"Then cast the spell. Just think about how good it will feel, making him hurt like I did." He put one hand on her waist, his mouth millimeters from her ear. "Make him hurt, my Bellatrix…"

"_Crucio_," she whispered. The Mudblood twitched and whimpered, but didn't scream. The Dark Lord's fingers tightened on Bellatrix's waist, his other hand drawing slowly up her side and along her arm, steadying it.

"Again, my Bellatrix."

"_Crucio_."

This time Bellatrix's voice was stronger, and the Mudblood arched and buckled, let out a short cry of pain. Bellatrix watched him, her breathing a little heavy.

"Oh, I thought you would like it," breathed the Dark Lord. "Yes, my Bellatrix, curse him again."

"_Crucio_!"

This time the Mudblood did scream. He twisted his body into a knot, then unfurled, all the time twitching and shaking like he was having a seizure. Bellatrix's own muscles twitched a little in response.

"Relax, my Bellatrix. Enjoy it, you know you will."

"_Crucio_."

The Mudblood shrieked like every cell in his body was on fire, and he shook wildly. His back arched, and he pushed himself off the ground, body contorting hideously. Bellatrix sank back into her Master, relaxing into his arms. "Oh, _Merlin_, look at him…"

"Isn't it lovely, my Bellatrix?" the Dark Lord whispered in her ear. "Just imagine how it must _feel_. Doesn't it make your whole body hum, seeing him, twisting… writhing… spasming…"

Bellatrix drew in a shaky breath and let it out slowly, smiling. "I won't be able to stay focused if you talk like that…"

"No matter," he hissed, running his hand up to her breast and squeezing it. "No need to focus on him anymore, my Bellatrix."

The wand clattered from Bellatrix's hand, and she sighed, put both her hands over his.

"Back against the wall," the Dark Lord breathed. Bellatrix straightened quickly and leaned against one of the walls of the alley. She rubbed against it, stretched her arms above her head, tilted her hips seductively.

"You saucy little trull," murmured the Dark Lord. He approached her, rubbed a hand over her full hip. "You want me, my Bellatrix?"

"Always, my Lord," she said breathlessly.

He gathered her skirt, lifted it slowly so that he could slip his hand under it.

"No knickers," he observed. "I approve."

"I thought you would, Master," she said, rubbing against him.

"Wait, my Bellatrix."

He dragged the tip of his wand between her breasts, down her tightly corseted waist, then pulled it up the inside of her thigh. Bellatrix exhaled deeply when she felt the wand tip prod at her cunt.

"Yes, you _would_ like that, wouldn't you, my whore?" The Dark Lord breathed. "You'd like me to use my wand in you…"

"Yes, Master, oh _yes_…"

He pushed his wand into her opening, tilted it so that the tip drove into the most sensitive spot inside her. Bellatrix groaned deeply. The wand was incredibly erotic, but just as unsatisfying, pressing into her but never being enough. She rolled her hips, clenched and unclenched her muscles, tried to force the wand deeper and harder into her.

The Dark Lord hissed in her ear. "You look delicious, my Bellatrix, riding my wand like that."

Bellatrix twisted on the wand, gasped and gave tiny moans of lust. The Dark Lord smirked at her.

"You like that? You like the feeling of the wand…"

"Yes…"

He pushed it even harder into the front wall of her cunt, and Bellatrix let out a strangled half-sob. She dug the fingers of one hand into the wall for support, then rubbed the fingers of her other against her clit, panting at the combined feeling of his wand and her own touch. The Dark Lord grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away.

"If you wanted to come, my Bella, you should have just asked. I have a much more efficient way. Would you like me to make you come, Bella?"

"Yes, Master, yes please," Bellatrix panted. _Please, make me come, now…_

"_Crucio_."

She shrieked, utterly shocked by the pain. The Dark Lord's mouth pressed down over hers, smothering her scream. The wand twisted inside her, and Bellatrix writhed from the pain of the spell and the pleasure of the wand inside her.

At last, the Dark Lord pulled the wand out of her, and she sagged against the wall, whimpering.

"What did you think of that, my Bellatrix?" he asked. Bellatrix could only gasp with relief from the Cruciatus curse.

"It was…" she managed, "not what I expected…"

"Good, my Bellatrix." He raised his wand to look at it. It glistened with moisture. "The intention was to surprise you."

"Thank you, Master."

She took several deep breaths, then straightened and picked up her wand from where she had dropped it on the ground.

"Shouldn't we go find the person from the Ministry now, Master?"

"Of course not, my Bellatrix," he said. "If your husband and his brother are of any use at all, he will already be dead."

"What?"

"He was on his way home, in the alley I sent them down. It should have been quite easy for them to kill him."

"Well then, why did you have the rest of us spread out? Why not just all go right for the target?"

"So, my Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said, "that we could have a little time… alone."


	8. Chapter 8

Chosen Prompts: Punishment, and I suppose a little bit of "Outdoors" as well.

Warnings: Plain vanilla sex, alcohol consumption

)O(

"Your husband seems to be taking things well," the Dark Lord remarked, as the Death Eaters, having convened over the dead body of the official, went their separate ways. Rodolphus, along with his brother Rabastan, and Lucius, Nott and Dolohov, was on the way to the Leaky Cauldron for a round of drinks, commemorating a job well done.

"He was out late drinking the other night," Bellatrix said, watching Rodolphus's retreating back.

"Surely you don't begrudge him a drink?" asked the Dark Lord, amusement in his voice. "After all he's been through…"

"I couldn't care less what he drank," said Bellatrix, as the last of the Death Eaters turned corners, out of sight. She turned on her Master, and rested both her hands flat against his chest. "He's taking things fine. Now kiss me, Master."

"I didn't know you cared so much for kissing," he said, still sounding somewhat amused. "Well, I suppose I could indulge you…"

The Dark Lord pushed Bellatrix backwards, and she hit the brick wall hard. He was pressed against her in an instant, mouth locked over hers and his whole body pinning her between himself and the wall. Bellatrix let out a little gasp of excitement, and parted her lips, letting his tongue probe around the inside of her mouth. His cock stirred against her inner thigh, and Bellatrix reached down, searching for it blindly.

He grasped her wrists and pulled them up, out to the sides, pinning her in a cross shape to the wall, all the while kissing her fervently.

"No time for that, my Bellatrix," he murmured into her mouth. "Aurors will be here any minute."

Bellatrix moaned her agreement, and shut her eyes, relishing the sensation of his lips, hard enough to bruise hers, his chest pressed up against the swell of her breasts, his hands, holding her immobile against the wall, and, of course, the brush of his hardened cock against her leg.

There was a commotion from one of the adjoining alleys, and the Dark Lord broke away.

"Aurors," he hissed. He grabbed her arm, and in a second, they were in the Dark Lord's bedroom.

Bellatrix tumbled back onto the now-almost-familiar bed, and her Master was atop her, wrenching at his own clothes and at hers, tossing them into a heap on the floor.

"I've been waiting for this all night," he hissed in her ear, before flipping her onto her stomach. Bellatrix pushed onto her hands and knees, and reached under herself, guiding her Lord's cock into her. He groaned, and thrust hard, burying himself to the hilt. Bellatrix jerked at the force, and pushed her own hips backwards to meet his.

It was brief, lustful, and intensely satisfying. When the Dark Lord finished, he and Bellatrix lay, too exhausted to untangle themselves from the sheets and from each other.

"Master," Bellatrix panted, when she finally had her breath back.

"What is it, Bellatrix?"

She twisted and smirked at him. "I certainly hope Rodolphus is enjoying his drink."

)O(

"God, I need alcohol," Rodolphus said, sinking onto a barstool. Lucius passed him a bottle of firewhiskey and he splashed it into his glass.

"So, Rodolphus," Lucius said lazily, pouring himself a drink, "what did your wife do for the Dark Lord to get a position as a Death Eater anyhow?"

"Don't talk about her."

"She probably sucked him off," Dolohov said with a chuckle.

"Wish she'd do the same for the rest of us," put in Nott, to a general murmur of agreement.

Rodolphus twisted in his seat and aimed his wand between Nott's eyes. "Watch your mouth! You're talking about my wife, not some Knockturn Alley whore!"

Nott looked taken aback. "Good God, Rodolphus, I was only joking–"

"He touched a nerve, did he?" Lucius asked, taking a sip of his drink. Rodolphus turned to Lucius, aiming at him now. Lucius raised his eyebrows, then lightly pushed the wand out of his face.

"You're awfully jumpy," commented Dolohov. "What's got you so bothered, Rodolphus?"

"Yes, put the wand down and tell us what's bothering you," said Rabastan, leaning over to pluck Rodolphus's wand from his fingers. "You've been acting strange for days now."

"Yes, do tell," Lucius agreed.

"No." Rodolphus downed his drink in one gulp, and refilled the glass.

"Come on, Rod." Rabastan shifted closer to his brother and looked at him with an expression of concern. "What's on your mind? Is it Bellatrix?"

"Yeah," Rodolphus muttered. He took another long swallow of his drink, and stared into the glass. "Yeah, it's Bellatrix. You really want to know?"

"Of course," said Dolohov. He, Lucius, Nott and Avery were all watching Rodolphus with varying degrees of curiosity on their faces.

"All right." Rodolphus finished his second drink. "All right. Remember how, the other day, the Dark Lord wanted me and Bellatrix to stay after the meeting?"

"Of course," said Lucius. Rabastan's hand rested on Rodolphus's arm, warm and comforting.

"Well, he… they…" Rodolphus searched for the words. There was nothing he could say that didn't make the whole matter sound stupid.

"Go on, Rod," Rabastan said, tightening his grip on Rodolphus's arm. Rodolphus looked helplessly at his brother, and he could see that Rabastan knew what he was going to say.

"He fucked her," Rodolphus finished weakly.

There was a pause, in which all the Death Eaters – particularly Nott and Dolohov – looked horrified, then Lucius burst out, "I knew it!"

"What?"

"I knew she was letting him fuck her! No wonder he's been acting so bloody strange since she joined up."

"He has, now that you mention it," Nott said thoughtfully. "And he doesn't take his eyes off her. Not that I can blame–"

"Shut up," Rabastan ordered Nott.

"That bloody whore," Dolohov said, shaking his head. "Just marches in and thinks she can be the Dark Lord's favourite, just because she'll fuck him."

"We've been helping him for years, and she hasn't even got the mark yet," Lucius said, standing up and beginning to pace back and forth. "And he _is_ favouring her. Has her sit by his right hand, takes her with him looking for people we need to assassinate–"

"Is it any wonder?" asked Nott, whose hands were balled into fists. "She's got him wrapped around her finger. Metaphorically speaking."

"Are you all right?" Rabastan said softly, stroking Rodolphus's arm.

"Do I bloody look all right?" Rodolphus's voice broke, and he buried his face in his hand. "I watched the _Dark Lord fuck my wife_. Do you think I'm all right?"

"We should punish her," said Lucius, stopping in front of Rodolphus and looking down at him. "We should all punish her for cuckolding you."

Rodolphus raised his head to look at Lucius.

"You would do that?" he asked. "You would help me punish her?"

"Of course," said Lucius. "Wouldn't we?" He looked around at the other Death Eaters, who nodded vigorously.

"Leave it to us, Rod," Rabastan said. "We'll make her pay for what she did to you."


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Notes: Sorry for making you wait for this. The creator of the Smut University Challenge has gone inactive, so there haven't been new prompts for the past two weeks. I don't know how long she's be gone, so updates will now be a little more sporadic, although I'm going to try to go back to the one-per-week schedule, using prompts from past weeks.

Prompt: Massage oil

Warning: Mammary intercourse

)O(

"Did you see the way she was looking at him?" Lucius asked in an undertone, after Bellatrix and the Dark Lord exited the meeting room.

"I can't stand to look at her," Rodolphus muttered, glaring at the table. "Every time I do, all I can see is him fucking her, right here…"

"Stop it," said Rabastan, addressing both Lucius and Rodolphus. "Lucius, stop bringing it up, and Rod, stop dwelling. We've promised we're going to sort her out, and we will. You making yourself crazy thinking about it isn't going to do any good."

"I apologize," Lucius said quickly. "Are you all right, Rodolphus?"

Rodolphus swallowed hard.

"I will be," he said. "I'll be fine after you punish her."

"We will," Rabastan promised. "As harshly as we know how."

)O(

"Do you think they know, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked, shutting the bedroom door.

"Know what, my Bellatrix?"

"Know that we're… you know…"

"Does it matter? I very much doubt if any of them – besides you husband – would have cause to care."

"I don't know," said Bellatrix. "The way some of them were looking at me tonight… especially Lucius… it was like he knew."

The Dark Lord considered her, then shook his head. "Dear Bellatrix, you are worrying altogether too much. Not one of them would be able to harm you."

"I know, my Lord, but–"

"No more shall be said on the matter, Bellatrix."

"If you say so, my Lord."

The Dark Lord peeled off her dress, stripped her until all she was wearing was the pearl necklace he had given her, and pushed her down onto the bed. Bellatrix sighed at the feeling of the soft fabric on her flushed skin.

"Enjoy it, my Bellatrix," the Dark Lord breathed, flipping her onto her stomach and running his cool fingers lightly over her back. Bellatrix nodded, and relaxed, face buried in a pillow, as the Dark Lord stroked her.

She felt a trickle of something cold on her skin, and jumped at the shock of it, but before se could say anything, the Dark Lord's hands were on her, stroking the oil into her flesh. She moaned at the caress.

"My Lord," she breathed, "what have I done to deserve such… such a reward…"

"It pleases me, my Bellatrix," he told her, pressing his hands against her back. "Seeing you spread out on the bed, face buried in that pillow, slick with oil…"

She moaned again. His clever hands were skimming her back, light yet firm, and incredibly sure. Having him touch her this way made her feel something more than merely lustful – although, yes, she felt that too. It made her…

He worked his fingers over a knot of muscle at the base of her spine and she gave a little gasp of relief. With every motion of his sure, powerful hands, she felt her body relax a little more.

"Are you enjoying this, my Bellatrix?" the Dark Lord whispered, his breath tickling her ear. She nodded, smothering another moan in the pillow.

"I thought you would." He smoothed both his hands over her back, over the slick, smooth skin. "Turn over."

Bellatrix complied, rolling onto her back and gazing up at her Lord, eyes bright with passion.

"Beautiful," he said, drizzling more oil onto her belly, and kneading it into the flesh. "You are a beautiful, beautiful thing, Bellatrix."

She shut her eyes, luxuriating in her Lord's touch. Her stomach was now also slippery with the oil, and his hands were trailing slowly towards her breasts.

"You please me so, Master," she breathed when his cool, slick fingers tweaked her nipple.

"And you please me, my Bellatrix," he told her.

The Dark Lord's caress was light, controlled, just skimming the sensitive flesh of her breasts, and that lightness was enough to make Bellatrix half-mad with desire. She was lost in a hazy cloud of sensation, unaware of anything beyond the Dark Lord's hands and her own response.

Both Bellatrix's breasts now wet with the oil, the Dark Lord's touch became more forceful, rubbing the oil into her breasts, palming them roughly, pinching her aching nipples hard between his thumb and forefinger. Bellatrix put her own hands up to join in the Dark Lord's assault.

"God," she whimpered, at one particularly firm twist.

The Dark Lord smirked at her. "Yes, my Bellatrix?"

"Take me, Master, please," was all she could manage. She spread her legs as far apart as she could, and reached down to open herself for her Lord.

"Oh, no, my Bellatrix," he whispered, "I've something else for you tonight."

"What is it, Master, what is it?" She was wet, and aching for him, and couldn't bear the thought of having to go without him.

In answer, the Dark Lord pulled himself forward, over her, so that he was straddling her torso, below the breasts. Bellatrix gave another moan of happiness and anticipation as she realized what he was doing.

He pressed her breasts together on his cock, and Bellatrix squeaked with delight. Slowly, he rocked back and forth, and Bellatrix groaned at the feeling of his cock throbbing between her breasts. The motions were clumsy at first, Bellatrix fumbling to grip her slippery breasts in such a way as to keep them pressed together on her Lord's erection, but eventually she found her grip, and the Dark Lord found a rhythm. With every thrust forward, Bellatrix stretched her neck forward and flicked her tongue against the tip, and with every pull back, she turned up to look at him. His face was tense, and his eyes fixed on her breasts.

"Oh yes, my Bellatrix," he murmured, voice strained. Bellatrix pressed her breasts harder on him, and his lips curled into something like a snarl. He pushed his cock forward hard, and Bellatrix massaged her tongue against the head, strained her neck as far forward as she could, and fastened her lips around it, sucking hard. He held the position for several moments, groaning at the sucking and the pressure, then pushed her head back, and set to thrusting again. Bellatrix gripped her breasts, shoving them tightly together on him, and he groaned deeply. He thrust one last time, and his come spattered onto her throat, spots of semen mingling with the pearls on Bellatrix's necklace.

The Dark Lord groaned, eyelids falling shut. Bellatrix squeezed her breasts together once more, then let go of them, stroking her Master's cock with light, swift motions.

"Did that please you, my Lord?" she asked, voice weak with want.

"It did, my Bellatrix," he said, pulling himself off her. "Hardly a surprise. You have yet to fail to please me."


	10. Chapter 10

Bellatrix admired herself in the mirror. It was the night that she was to be marked as a Death Eater, and she had never felt quite so beautiful. Her black curls were piled on her head, a few graceful strands falling down to frame her face. Her cheeks glowed pink with excitement, and her eyes looked almost unnaturally bright. She was up in one of the Manor bedrooms, as the Dark Lord had ordered, and was hoping that he would join her. She wouldn't have objected to being made love to before being marked…

The Dark Lord entered the room, and examined her, a slight smile on his lips.

"Lovely," he said. "Your robes are in the trunk, at the foot of the bed."

Bellatrix's face fell. She was wearing her favourite dress, and didn't much care for the idea of being marked while wearing strange clothes. It felt as though that would throw things off, just a little too much.

"Robes, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said, in a tone that made it perfectly clear there was to be no arguing.

"Yes, my Lord."

She knelt, and opened the trunk, expecting to see a set of black robes like those she had always seen the Death Eaters wearing. But instead, folded before her, was a white garment. Bellatrix looked at her Lord questioningly.

"White?"

"Quite so, my Bellatrix." He moved over to her, rested a slender hand on the back of her neck. "By the end of the night, they will be black with your sins."

Bellatrix stood up, unfolding the clothing so she could get a better look at it. There was a dress, simply cut, and a cloak to wear over it, both in a white so very bright that it hurt her eyes to look at it. She looked at her Master through lowered lashes, a mischievous smile on her face. "Undress me, my Lord?"

"You are too bold, my Bellatrix," he said, letting his fingers caress her jaw, before running lightly down her windpipe. "If any of my other followers spoke so boldly to me…"

"You would punish them," Bellatrix finished. Her heartbeat sped, and she felt almost delirious. She was treading on thin ice, she knew, but the danger was intoxicating. "Will you punish me?"

"Bellatrix, we have scarcely an hour before the ritual begins. There is little time for any punishments."

"An hour is a long time," she purred. "Plenty of time for you to punish me for my rudeness…"

"You are so eager," the Dark Lord commented. He put his hand against her breast, brushing his thumb against her erect nipple. "You will be put through plenty in the course of the ceremony, you realize, my Bellatrix?"

"I know, my Lord," she said breathlessly. "We could… practice…"

He considered her, then, without warning, spun her around and slammed her face-first into the desk at the side of her room. Bellatrix cried out in surprise, and was silenced by a wrench of her hair. An incantation, and her wrists were bound together, stretched above her head against the desk. Her entire body was bent over at the waist, so her torso was flat against the surface.

Bellatrix's skirt was wrenched up, bunched around the waist, and she felt a hard slap across her backside. She groaned with pain and masochistic delight, and she was slapped again, even harder this time, hard enough to leave a mark.

She loved this, being dominated so completely by him. It was wonderful, and though she could not see him, she knew that the Dark Lord enjoyed it too, enjoyed showing how much power he had over her, that he could make her bend over and spank her like she was a naughty child, and make her beg for more…

He drove two long, slim fingers inside her, then pulled them out and smeared the wetness across her arse when he hit her again. Bellatrix spread her legs apart, mentally urging her Lord to take her, right there on the desk.

The smacks to her backside stopped abruptly, the Dark Lord had apparently grown tired with spanking his servant. He used his fingers to spread her lips open, and she felt the tip of his cock rest against her opening.

"Yes," Bellatrix whispered breathlessly. "Yes, take me, punish me, take me hard…"

The Dark Lord needed no further urging. He thrust hard up into her, and Bellatrix shrieked at his roughness. It felt good, so good, and she tilted her hips to try to force him to push against the most sensitive spot. The force was arousing, and she always performed better at spellwork after sex. Now if she could just climax-

As though he had read her mind – which, she reminded herself, he might have – the Dark Lord whispered, "Don't come, my Bellatrix." He punctuated the words with a particularly violent thrust.

She whimpered, and forced herself to stay calm, not to react. He worked hard against her, and, as though to strain her self-control even further, reached beneath her to work her breast with one hand and massage her clit with the other. He was amazing, and it took every ounce of restraint Bellatrix had to stay in control, not let herself go…

The Dark Lord groaned, and climaxed into her. Bellatrix clenched her teeth, tightened every muscle in her body against the need to come. He panted for a moment, then pulled out, leaving her still against the desk, skirt up, gasping with intense want.

"Master," she groaned, "please, pleasure me, I need-"

"I've done all I care to for the moment," he said, and Bellatrix hated how dispassionate his voice sounded. "I've no wish to bring you any more pleasure."

"But-"

He pulled her skirt back down, and untied her. Bellatrix straightened, turned to her Master. Her face, she knew, was contorted with her desire. The Dark Lord appraised her, smiled mirthlessly. "Oh pet, is it really so bad?"

She nodded, swallowed hard and looked down. _Rodolphus did the same thing to me when I was first ordered not to lie with him, don`t you remember?_

The Dark Lord rested two fingers beneath her chin, lifted her head so she was forced to look him in the eye.

"I'll make it up to you, my Bellatrix," he breathed. "You'll have your pleasure when the ritual is over."

"Yes Master," murmured Bellatrix. "As you say, of course…"

He set to unlacing her corset, laid it aside and stripped her naked, fondling her breasts and stroking every inch of skin. Bellatrix moaned, enjoyed his touch. He slipped the white robes onto her, and admired the effect.

"So pure," he said. "Innocent. And before the night is over, you will be nothing but sin."

He knotted his hands in her hair and kissed her hard.

"My Bellatrix," he whispered roughly. "My beautiful pet, you will be the jewel of the Death Eaters."


	11. Chapter 11

In white, Bellatrix felt horribly conspicuous. All the other Death Eaters, hooded and robed in black, blended together into a sea of indiscernible figures. And she, Bellatrix, stood out from them far more than she would have liked.

"My faithful followers," the Dark Lord said, addressing the circle of men, "tonight, we welcome one more to our number."

He laid a hand on the small of Bellatrix's back, and drew her forward, so that she was standing very, very close to him. Almost uncomfortably close, Bellatrix thought, given that so many eyes were on them. She fought to keep her expression still and proud.

"Nott," the Dark Lord said, looking to one of the hooded figures. "Bring forward the muggle."

Bellatrix watched in equal parts horror and fascination as the circle of Death Eaters parted, and Nott dragged someone forward. It was a woman, blindfolded and gagged, wrists tied behind her back, clothed only in a simple grey shift. Nott flung her to the ground at the centre of the circle, and retreated, wiping his hands against the front of his robes as though he had touched something dirty. _Which he has. A muggle._

"Bellatrix." The Dark Lord's voice was soft in her ear. "She is yours. Do with her what you will. Show us what muggles deserve."

Bellatrix slowly raised her wand to point at the muggle. Her hand trembled – just slightly, but enough for the others to see. There was a whisper from one of the Death Eaters – "Woman. Should have known she wouldn't be able to."

Fury welled in Bellatrix's throat, and she slashed her wand through the air. The spell hit the muggle, and she screamed through the gag, her body convulsing and contorting under the curse. Bellatrix lifted it, and stepped forward, tearing the gag off the woman's mouth. She wanted to hear her scream.

And scream she did, with every curse that Bellatrix hurled her way, screamed and begged for mercy, and screamed more, all the while twisting and bending and spasming in a way that made Bellatrix's breath short. The Dark Lord, at Bellatrix's side, was watching her with something like pride, and Bellatrix fancied she saw lust in his eyes too, as he looked from the writhing muggle on the ground to Bellatrix, the source of the pain.

Bellatrix shifted slightly. Seeing the body writhing on the ground was more than enough to arouse her, and glancing at the Dark Lord, which she did every few moments to be sure that she was doing the right thing, only elevated her lust. She felt quite delirious.

"Enough."

The Dark Lord spoke simply, and Bellatrix lowered her wand, looking at him hopefully.

"Kill the muggle, Bellatrix," he said, and Bellatrix nodded. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

She went limp, and Bellatrix felt a surge of pride. She looked around triumphantly at the Death Eaters, and at her Master, swelling with pride at having killed her first muggle so easily. He nodded, approval clear in his expression.

There was a cough from one of the Death Eaters, and everyone turned to look.

"My Lord," said Nott, "I am curious as to… as to how the festivities shall proceed from here…" He coughed again. "How will a woman…"

Bellatrix felt suddenly uneasy. She wished the Dark Lord had explained to her beforehand what the ceremony would entail.

"Ah, yes." The Dark Lord smiled slightly. "Thank you for addressing the matter, Nott. You see, Bellatrix, the ritual generally involves the Death Eater… having his way with the body, shall we say. Of course, your gender makes that…" he trailed off suggestively, and Bellatrix felt herself flush.

"Give the body to Rodolphus, then!" she said, drawing herself up as tall as she could and forcing her voice not to betray any of the embarrassment she felt at having her sex brought to such obvious attention. "He needs it more than I would, in any case."

There was an eruption of laughter from the Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord smiled at Bellatrix once again, signalling that she had done the right thing.

"Rodolphus," he said, turning to the Death Eaters. Rodolphus stepped out, lowering his hood so his face could be seen in the moonlight. Bellatrix knew he was trying his hardest not to show emotion, and she couldn't hold back a wild grin. She was enjoying the way in which she could sting Rodolphus with her words and actions more by the minute.

"Yes, my Lord?" Rodolphus said.

"Take the body. Consider it a gift from your wife."

Rodolphus coloured, but he clenched his jaw, and scooped the limp muggle's form, dragging her away, out of the ring of Death Eaters.

"Now, Bellatrix," said the Dark Lord, no longer interested in Rodolphus, "as you have declined to take your pleasure from the corpse, we must… use a variation of the marking ritual."

"What sort of variation, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked.

"Nothing you will object to, Bella." He flicked his wand, and Bellatrix's body bent against her will. She found herself forced to her hands and knees upon the ground, and she had the distinct feeling that she knew how this "variation" of the ritual was going to play out.

Bellatrix felt the night air against the backs of her thighs, and knew her skirt was being rolled up, and, though she _knew_ she should feel nothing but shame, being bared here before all these men, she felt a thrill of excitement rush through her. _Yes, oh yes…_

The Dark Lord's cool fingers were between her legs, and she shifted, opening her legs slightly to give him easier access.

He thrust into her, and Bellatrix forced herself to be silent. Much as she loved being watched as the Dark Lord took her, here, before all his followers, she didn't much fancy them being able to see all the reaction she had to the Dark Lord. She didn't want these men to see her writhing, or moaning, or begging, or coming…

But keeping silent was an impossible task. The Dark Lord had brought her so close earlier that night, and torturing the muggle had made her wild with anticipation, and now…

Bellatrix bit her lips to keep from crying out as the Dark Lord worked at her. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she tried to remember why she didn't want to show her pleasure. _All the men, all watching me…_

It didn't matter, and Bellatrix felt herself tighten. Her back arched, and she let out a sharp cry. She forgot that she was being watched, forgot this was all part of a ritual, forgot everything but her own pleasure. And in the throes of her climax, she heard the Dark Lord groan softly, and felt him spill inside her.

He pulled out, and Bellatrix collapsed to the ground, panting. It took several long minutes for her vision to straighten out and her head to clear, and then she sat up, looking around. The Dark Lord was already on his feet, and he had his wand pointed at her. Bellatrix felt a peculiar sensation spread through her – a flush of heat, a strange tingling, and then pain, pain like the Cruciatus curse, but _more so_. She fell back on the grass, body convulsing. Her left forearm seared, and she cried out, from pain this time. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Bellatrix lay for a few minutes, braced for the pain to return, then slowly opened her eyes.

Her robes had turned from white to black, and the Dark Mark blazed raw on her arm.


	12. Chapter 12

"Did you see him, _did you see him?_" Rodolphus was near hysterical. "Taking her, right there, right in front of all of us! _My wife_!"

"Calm down, Rod," Rabastan said, though he looked shaken too.

"_Did you see what he did to her?_ Did you see what she _did_?"

"Rodolphus," said Rabastan, "none of us is pleased to have seen that – you shut up," he added to Nott who looked like he was about to disagree. "But we've promised she'll be punished. You have to trust us."

"They just get worse, every time he touches her," Rodolphus muttered, running his fingers through his hair. "And couldn't she at least _try to pretend she doesn't love it_?" He shuddered, trying to dispel the mental image of his wife bending back into the Dark Lord, crying out with pleasure. The table had been more than bad enough, _how dare they do this…_

"Rod–" Rabastan began, but Rodolphus cut him off.

"I can't stand it," he said. "Punish her tonight. Please, punish her tonight."

Rabastan looked around, at Malfoy, Nott, Dolohov and Avery, all of whom looked some combination of sympathetic and angry.

"We will, Rod," Rabastan said. "We'll punish her tonight."

)O(

Bellatrix was so tired she could scarcely stand upright. She had made it through to the end of the ritual before the exhaustion had really set in, but now she had to clutch at the doorframe to keep herself standing.

"Master," she said, stifling a yawn, "did I do well?"

The Dark Lord appraised her, then smiled. "Admirably, my Bellatrix. Did you want a reward?"

She considered, knowing full well the sort of reward he had in mind. Bellatrix knew she was too tired to be able to pleasure him properly, and he had, after all, taken her less than an hour ago outside, before all those men…

Bellatrix collapsed into the bed, too tired to shed her robes, though she did manage to kick off the shoes she was wearing. The Dark Lord joined her, though he did take the time to remove his robes, lying in the bed at her side, stroking her gently.

"Such a pretty little thing," he hissed, running his hands over her breasts, slowly pulling her robes off her. "Though prettier in white, I daresay…"

She sighed softly, tipping her head back and closing her eyes, though her lips curved into a mischievous smile. "You like me pure like that, my Lord?"

"Yes, Bella, pure so I can corrupt you."

She moaned, and rubbed her body against his. "I'm horribly, horribly impure…" She slid her hands over his arms, down his chest, and to his groin, feeling him carefully. Her fingers brushed over the leaking head. Voldemort groaned quietly, and Bellatrix rubbed him harder. "Would you like me to show you how impure I am?"

"I would, Bella, I would like that a great deal…"

She smiled, and rolled on top of him. The Dark Lord had never let her top before, but she was too giddy with excitement to be nervous about it. She knelt over him, leaned down to kiss his cool lips. " Then I'll show you. I'll do horrible things to you…"

He regarded her with far too much detachment in his eyes. "You're very bold tonight, Bellatrix."

She threw her head back and laughed. "I am! I am bold! I am a Death Eater, I have no reason not to be!" Her exhaustion had left her, replaced with pure joy, and she lifted herself up and sank down on his cock. Her head fell back and she moaned shamelessly.

The Dark Lord let out a soft moan. "You're quite attractive when you're dominant, Bella," he murmured. Bellatrix dug her fingers into the pillow on either side of his head and rocked back and forth on him, grinding down on his erection. Her heart seemed to be beating ten times its normal rate, and she thought a good bit of that was due to the excitement of, for once, acting the dominant in their bed. Much as she loved when the Dark Lord took her, showing how far superior he was to her, dominance was in her nature, and she preferred it.

To her surprise, the Dark Lord seemed to be enjoying this as well. He groaned, and his body heaved as she pounded him down into the bed. "My Bella, oh yes…"

He grabbed onto her hips, controlling her motions in just such a way that his cock pressed against the most sensitive spot inside her with every thrust. Bellatrix moaned and cried out, and grabbed onto her own breasts, palming them as the Dark Lord moved her on him. He flipped her onto her back once more, spreading her legs to take her hard.

She shrieked, not caring who heard, as he buried himself to the hilt, filling her completely. "Oh God, yes, Master, yes!" She reached down with one hand to rub her clit while he worked at her, shuddering and moaning. "I'm so close, Master, so close…"

He pulled out completely, grabbing her hand to stop her ministrations before she could come. "Stop, Bella!"

Bellatrix moaned and thrust her hips forward, trying to get him back inside her. "Why–"

The Dark Lord let her writhe for a moment, smirking at her obvious discomfort, then thrust back in, moving twice as hard, hitting the perfect spot with every stroke, and Bellatrix felt herself tighten hard around him. "Oh Master, I'm coming, I'm coming– oh God!"

Her back arched almost grotesquely, she felt liquid gush from between her legs, and she saw stars. Her nails dug into his shoulders, she couldn't have let go of him if she tried, all she knew was that she was in more pleasure than she had ever been in her life. She was vaguely aware of his hardness breaking inside her, of him coming inside her, but she was far too lost in her own ecstasy to notice.

"Bellatrix," she heard him moan before he lay still upon her, and tears of pleasure sprang to her eyes.

"Oh Master, my Lord," she almost-sobbed, clinging to him. "My Lord, my Lord, I love you so much–"

Bellatrix was brought out of her joy by the sudden absence of the Dark Lord's touch. She blinked, trying to clear her thoughts and eyesight, and looked at him. He had moved away from her, and was looking at her with an expression of utter disgust.

"What?" she asked, pulling herself half-upright.

"_Love_," he said, spitting out the word as though it tasted bad. "Love is disgusting, Bellatrix. Love is a weakness. This you know."

She was confused, and looked at him, perplexed. "What are you talking about…"

"You said you loved me," he told her icily.

Bellatrix's face flushed crimson. "I… I did not mean to offend… I am sorry, my Lord, I apologize…"

He was standing now, closing off to her. "You may sleep in this bed if you wish, Bellatrix, but I shall not return. Not until you realize how very foolish it is to love another."

"But my Lord–"

"Silence, Bellatrix!"

She struggled to her knees on the bed, crawling forward to grab at him, but he shook her off, redressing himself in his robes and sweeping out before she could say another word. The door clicked shut behind him. Bellatrix stared in dismay at the closed door, then pressed both hands over her mouth to stifle sobs. She hadn't known he would react so strongly to her words. Of course she knew he did not love, but she had not realized that he would be angry if she expressed her own emotions.

Bellatrix fell back onto the wet patch on the bed, plucking at the soaked sheet. Then she turned over, taking one of the pillows from the bed and clutching it to her chest, trying to imagine it to be the Dark Lord. Not a very effective substitute.

She buried her face in the fabric and cried, letting out all the hurt she had felt at his rejection of her emotions. It stunned her that she had gone so quickly from joy to misery – she was not used to her emotions changing this much, this quickly.

Perhaps when she woke in the morning, the Dark Lord would be ready to forgive her. Now, she wanted to lie in his bed and rest and recover from everything that had happened that night. She curled up, arms still wrapped around her pillow, pressing the newly formed Dark Mark on her arm into the cool fabric and letting her tears soak it. She just needed to be left alone to recover.

Just outside the bedroom door, Rabastan glanced once more at Lucius, Avery, Dolohov and Nott. Lucius gave a tiny nod of encouragement, and Rabastan turned the door handle.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Notes: I want to thank those of you who have been reading this. This will not be the last chapter, but I don't know when my muse will allow the next chapter will be written (so no "Please update"s, please).

Warning: ...

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. It hurt me more than it will hurt you, I promise you.

)O(

"_Muffliato!_"

Bellatrix was shocked out of her despair by the sound of Rabastan's voice. She sat straight up in bed, shrieking when she saw the five men at the door, which was closed behind them. "Get out!"

She leapt up, pulling the sheet around herself, and grabbed her wand off the table, but Lucius moved forward and caught her arm, keeping her from pointing at anyone.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" Bellatrix asked, shaking Lucius off her arm. "Don't touch me!"

"You think far too much of yourself," Lucius told her, tightening his hand on her arm.

Bellatrix spat at him, and he recoiled and hit her across the face. "You bitch!"

Nott stepped forward and clutched Bellatrix's other arm, twisting it behind her, and a wand prodded into the small of her back. Lucius grabbed her wand away and threw it over her head, into the corner.

"Let go of me!" Bellatrix ordered, trying to pull herself out of their grip.

"Oh, she's strong," said Nott, chuckling darkly. "This will be great fun."

"What will?" asked Bellatrix, now quite scared, though trying not to show it. She looked to Rabastan. "What's going on? What will be fun?"

"Why, you will, Bellatrix," Lucius said. "You'll be wonderfully… _fun_."

She froze.

"What?"

Nott's hand was on her backside now, massaging it. "She's gorgeous…"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Bellatrix tried to shake herself free, but Nott and Lucius were holding her still. Rabastan leaned forward and caught her chin in his hand. "Just giving you what you deserve, Bella."

Lucius grabbed the sheet which was wrapped around her, and pulled it down, laying her body completely bare. Bellatrix shrieked, trying to twist in such a way as to hide herself. But every way she turned she faced another man, and Lucius and Nott were ensuring she couldn't use her arms to cover herself. Lucius chuckled at her mortification, and Dolohov and Avery, who were watching, exchanged lascivious grins. Rabastan kept his eyes fixed dead on Bellatrix, and a light smile on his lips.

"All right, Bella?" he asked lightly, reaching out to touch her cheek.

"Rab," Bellatrix whispered. "What the hell is this? What are you people doing?" She felt horribly, almost painfully exposed, and tears of humiliation were prickling at her eyes.

Rabastan shoved her backwards, Lucius and Nott pulling on her arms so she was flat on her back on the bed. Her legs curled up to hide herself, and Dolohov and Avery each grabbed an ankle, pulling her legs straight.

Bellatrix felt bile rise in her throat. She suddenly had a very good idea what they were planning to do to her, and the thought made her heart stop. She struggled wildly against the men, her panic lending strength, but there were four of them, all physically stronger than her, and she couldn't get away from them. Rabastan stood over her, his cordial smile never faltering.

"Rab," Bellatrix shrieked, voice strained with terror. "You're going to do this? You're going to... to _rape_ me?"

"Rape is such an ugly word, Bella," Rabastan said, reaching down to touch her. She screamed, and twisted, but could not stop him.

"An ugly word," he repeated. "You'll get all upset if you start thinking like that."

"I'm practically your sister!" screamed Bellatrix. "How can you rape your _sister_?"

"How can you cuckold your husband?" Rabastan asked lightly. "I don't understand that, you don't understand me… we're even, aren't we?"

Tears filled Bellatrix's eyes, and she kicked as hard as she could. "Rodolphus wouldn't want this! Don't, please, Rab, don't do this to me!" She was quickly becoming tired from the struggle, but her terror kept her kicking.

"Whore," Dolohov commented from where he was struggling to keep her left leg still. "If you're going to whore for the Dark Lord, you have to share the favour, don't you?"

"Lucius," Bellatrix appealed. "Think of my sister, think of Narcissa! What if this was her? Just imagine if this was her!"

"Shut up," Lucius said brusquely.

"Nott," Bellatrix tried, twisting towards him. "You're married, imagine if this happened to your wife–"

"Doesn't anyone have a spell to shut her up?" Nott asked.

"That would make this so much less fun though," said Avery, leaning to get a good look between her legs. "I want to hear her screaming."

Rabastan started to undo his robes, and Bellatrix stared at him, petrified.

"Lucius," she said again. "You won't really do this to me, will you? Your wife is my sister, Lucius, what would she say if she found out about this?"

"Which is exactly why she's never going to find out."

"Rab, please," Bellatrix whimpered. "Help me…"

"I promised my brother I would punish you," Rabastan said. "We all promised Rodolphus we'd punish you in the worst way we knew how. And we aren't going to go back on that promise, now are we, men?" He looked around, and the other men nodded. Bellatrix began to cry in earnest. "No, no, no..."

"She's wet," Dolohov said, moving one hand up to prod at Bellatrix. "She's enjoying this."

"Nonsense, she was just with the Dark Lord," said Lucius. "Bet he got her off."

"Did he, Bella?" Rabastan purred in her ear. "Did the Dark Lord get you off? Did he make you come?"

Bellatrix suppressed a sob. "Rab, please, don't, please–"

"Oh, I love hearing her beg," Dolohov said. He climbed onto the bed and sat on her leg to free his hands, and put one of them to his cock, stroking it with long, slow motions.

Bellatrix screamed, kicked as hard as she could, though she didn't manage to dislodge either of the men holding her legs down.

"Rabastan, don't!" she wailed as he freed his cock and positioned it at her entrance. "Don't do this to me, Rab, I'll do anything, I swear, but don't, don't, don't–"

"Anything?" Rabastan asked slowly. He was hovering over her on strong arms, not pushing in yet. "Will you apologize to my brother and beg his forgiveness?"

"Yes!" She would, she was desperate, she would do anything. "Of course, I'll do it!"

"Will you stop fucking the Dark Lord?"

"I'll never sleep with him again, I'll never even look at him, just don't do this to me!"

Rabastan seemed to consider for a moment, then let out the coldest, cruellest laugh Bellatrix had ever heard. "No. I'm going to punish you anyway."

And he thrust inside her.

Bellatrix screamed as loudly as she could. She thrashed and buckled and wailed as Rabastan worked over her. "No! No! Stop!" Tears streamed down her face, and Rabastan delivered a hard blow across her face.

"That!" he said, hitting hard enough to bruise. "That is for what you did to my brother when you fucked the Dark Lord in front of him. And that!" Another slap. "That is for how you humiliated him at your marking. And that! That is for fucking the Dark Lord again, in front of all of us! Whore!"

"Stop, Rab, no, don't!" she sobbed, twisting on the bed, but the other men's restraints kept her from being able to stop him, and Rabastan continued what he was doing, thrusting in and out of her hard, hard enough to bruise her, hard enough to tear the skin inside of her, which was quickly going dry.

"Shut your mouth!" he told her. Sweat trickled from his brow, and it wasn't long before he groaned and Bellatrix felt his hot seed sting inside her. She shrieked, tears pouring down her cheeks as he pulled out.

"Right," he said, wiping his cock on the sheets and spitting on her. "Now, let me explain what's going to happen if you ever tell _anyone_ about this. If you tell anyone, Lucius will go to your father and request to break off the marriage with your sister. He will explain that he wouldn't want to be associated with _your_ sister, after the reputation you've gotten as a whore. Their marriage is still in its early stages, after all, it could easily be broken. Don't think it could not."

Bellatrix's eyes widened. "No, Rab, no… don't drag Cissy into this…"

"Oh, but it must be done. That's what will happen if you tell. So you're not going to tell, are you?"

She swallowed hard, and shook her head. "No…"

"Good girl," he told her. "Come on then, the rest of you. I think that punishment was… almost sufficient."

"Wait," said Lucius, standing up. "I want a turn with her. She's so pretty now that she's broken."

"Fine," Rabastan said carelessly. "If you want your way with her, go ahead. She's not going to fight anymore, now are you, Bella? If you fight, Lucius will have to go to your father…"

Bellatrix shook her head, and lay limply as Lucius took her, every bit as roughly as Rabastan had. She sobbed brokenly, but didn't dare fight. She doubted she could have so much as raised a hand to hit. When Lucius too had finished, she was left alone, Dolohov, Avery and Nott apparently having grown bored and decided she wasn't worth the trouble. Once they were gone, Bellatrix crawled out of the bed. She couldn't sleep in it anymore, it was stained now. She pulled herself into a corner of the room, curled her naked body up into a little ball, and shut her eyes.

She didn't know anything could hurt so much.


	14. Chapter 14

"Finally decided to come home, you little whore?"

Bellatrix flinched at Rodolphus's harsh words, and froze. She had been trying to get into the manor and upstairs, where she could sleep, without attracting her husband's attention, but apparently that was impossible.

Bellatrix had not been able to stay in the Dark Lord's chambers – they frightened her now, the horrible memories of what those men had done to her eclipsing the pleasurable ones of the Dark Lord. Now, she realized that had been a mistake. She should have stayed there. At least she would have had some semblance of privacy unless and until the Dark Lord returned.

Coming home had been a very, very bad idea.

"Rabastan's just gone," Rodolphus said. "And he told me all about what happened. He told me what you let them do to you…"

"_Let_ them?" whispered Bellatrix, horror-struck, but she could not bring herself to pursue the matter. She shook her head and started for the stairs, wanting to go up and curl in a nice, warm bed and forget the night ever happened. Another fight with Rodolphus was the last thing she needed.

"Yes, _let them_." Rodolphus's eyes blazed. "I mean- my God, Bellatrix, I thought you were a whore for fucking the Dark Lord- but _my brother_? My _friends_?"

"Do you think–" Bellatrix choked, "do you think I _wanted_ it to happen? Do you know what they did to me? What did Rab tell you?"

"Rab was going to punish you… he was going to punish you for me, and what does he end up doing?" Rodolphus snarled. He wasn't listening to his wife, what she said didn't matter to him. His own anger was the only thing he was even aware of. "He falls into your bed, just like every other man alive!"

Bellatrix's eyes filled with tears, her throat clenching. "You don't know anything," she whispered.

"Don't I?" He advanced on her, and Bellatrix shrank back, heart pounding in immediate fear. Rodolphus looked so like his brother to her – she couldn't get rid of the image of Rabastan looming over her…

"Don't bother acting as though it was something horrible that you didn't deserve," Rodolphus snorted at her. "Because you and I both know you had it coming. You deserved it. No, you deserved much, much worse! You didn't honestly believe that I would just _forget_ about what you made me watch, did you?"

Bellatrix turned her head away. She didn't want to talk to anyone right now, least of all Rodolphus. _She wanted to forget everything_.

"I hate you," Rodolphus snarled, and he turned away.

Bellatrix said nothing.

_You don't hate me half as much as I hate you._

Rodolphus turned back to her, just before he reached the door, and for the first time in her life, Bellatrix felt truly afraid of her husband, and the sheer fury on his face.

"You loved it, didn't you?" he demanded.

Bellatrix thanked God that Rodolphus did not wait for her to give him an answer, and that he stormed from the room before he could see her face crumple, because his words hurt her as what the men had done to her.

_How could you think that, Rod_?

What had Rabastan told him? Had Rabastan made it seem somehow that she – Bellatrix – had seduced _him_?

_Doesn't matter, don't care, just want to go to bed…_

She dragged herself up the stairs and into a spare bedroom – she had no intention of sharing a bed with Rodolphus, or anyone, ever again. Locking the door and dropping the cloak she had pulled around herself, tears sprung to her eyes once again.

_Don't cry, Bellatrix_! She couldn't cry, it just made it hurt more.

The Dark Mark was still burned fresh upon her skin, and Bellatrix felt ill as she looked at it. She was a Death Eater! She ought to have been able to fight off those men! It was irrelevant to her at that moment that there had been more of them, that she had not been expecting it, that she had been in the very compromising position of being asleep, naked, in the Dark Lord's bed. Those were no excuses. She should have fought them off.

The memories were a horrible, painful blur now, though some parts were still painfully clear. She shivered. Rabastan's face – she could still see it hovering just above hers, but she couldn't quite remember any of the words he had said, just a general torrent of hateful phrases thrown at her.

She remembered pain – terrible, terrible pain that she couldn't even begin to explain. She was quite sure that she remembered far worse pain. Getting the Dark Mark had hurt, even, but she couldn't remember anything quite like what had happened.

With a groan, Bellatrix crawled into bed, pulling covers up around her in a cocoon. That was nice – it felt warm, almost safe, though she still shook with fear.

Alone, in the dark bedroom, doubts began to gnaw at her. What if Rodolphus was right? What if she really _had_ deserved it?

_No!_ She had never done anything like this to Rodolphus, all she had done at his expense was let him watch her make love to the Dark Lord. And that was not nearly as wrong as-

As what those men had done to her…

Bellatrix swallowed. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry_…

Rodolphus's words echoed in her head. _You loved it, didn't you?_ How could he even say such a thing? The thought – the memories – made Bellatrix's stomach churn. How could Rodolphus possibly think that she would _enjoy_ something like that? Did he not understand?

_No._ Of course he didn't understand. He would never understand. He couldn't understand, unless it happened to him. No one who hadn't gone through it could possibly even begin to know what it felt like…

Bellatrix turned over onto her side, and vomited onto the floor. To weak to clean it up, she just lay back, hot tears stinging her eyes.

A part of her wanted to plot revenge against Rodolphus, against Rabastan and Lucius and Dolohov and Avery and Nott.

But a far larger part of her simply could not bring itself to care.


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Notes: Deeply sorry for the delay, et cetera.

)O(

Bellatrix did not sleep – of course she didn't, how could she? If she fell asleep, they would come back for her again, she was sure. She lay in bed, shaking and terrified, eyes wide open. At least Rodolphus had the decency not to try to join her in bed – though the longer she thought of it, the more afraid she was that perhaps he was simply leaving her alone so they men could have her again.

_Don't cry._

She pulled her knees up to her chest and lay on her side, wrapping her arms around her legs, digging her fingernails hard into her forearms. The still-raw flesh of her Dark Mark itched and bled as she jammed her nails into it. The pain… yes, the pain was good, the pain was a distraction. As long as her arm was hurting, she wouldn't think about them…

It seemed like forever before the sun finally rose slowly outside the window, and Bellatrix debated getting out of bed. Would it do her good to dress and put on appearances as though nothing had ever happened? But if she did that, she would have to look Rodolphus – or worse, Lucius, Avery, Nott, Rabastan – in the eyes and smile, and she did not think she could do that.

Staying in bed seemed a far more attractive way of spending the day, but a part of Bellatrix's mind scolded her that she was only delaying the inevitable. She would have to face those men someday. She couldn't stay in bed forever.

_Why not_?

Bellatrix pulled the blankets more tightly around herself, resting her head on her pillow and breathing deeply to keep herself from tears. What _was_ to stop her from never getting out of bed? She was safe here. She was happy here. Why shouldn't she stay?

Her answer was delivered by a searing pain through her forearm, so intense that it made her body buckle. She grasped at her arm, digging her fingernails into the flesh as if to tear the pain away.

Hot liquid trickled around her fingernails – she had split the skin, but the searing burn in her arm was so strong that she could hardly tell until she looked down at it. Blood was smearing her hand and the sheets and the fresh black outline of the Dark Mark.

_The Dark Mark._

She shut her eyes and a tear slid down her cheek despite her best efforts to keep sobs back. She couldn't hide, then. The Dark Lord was calling her, and…

Bellatrix swallowed hard. She could not turn away from him – especially so soon after receiving the mark. It felt as though a thousand burning needles were being stabbed into her arm, and the pain would not abate until she went to him.

It took every ounce of effort and will that she had to drag herself out of bed. She did not bother checking her reflection the way she would have done two days ago before meeting the Dark Lord – her appearance was no longer important to her. All the better, in fact, if she looked horrible. Perhaps then, he wouldn't have to touch her.

Her hands felt numb as she reached for her wand, dragged a cloak about her shoulders, and disapparated. The pain abated as soon as her feet touched the floor of the Dark Lord's manor, but that – a discomfort that was, at least, purely physical and thus manageable – was replaced by a clenching in the pit of her stomach that was just as strong, and the most incredible sense of panic that she had ever experienced. Her whole body shook as she dropped slowly into a curtsey for her master, who was standing before her and looking most displeased.

"Bellatrix," he said icily, "I returned to the chamber where I had left you and found you gone…"

"I–" Her voice broke and she swallowed hard. "I apologize, my Lord, I thought that you said that I might sleep in another bed– that you would not return…" She could not tell him the truth – how could she say that the reason she had left the bed was that she had been–

"So I did. And now I have called you back, so all is well…"

"Then why did you call me, my Lord?" she asked in a tiny voice, twisting her hands together and digging her nails into her palms. She kept her eyes down under the pretence of respect, but in truth, did not dare to look at him for fear of revealing what had happened to her. She was sure that he would be able to read it in her eyes…

"Get on your knees, Bellatrix."

Bile rose in her throat, but she lowered herself shakily to the ground, clasping her hands in her lap.

There was a familiar rustle of fabric, and Bellatrix's head snapped up. Oh, no, he couldn't mean to–

"I presume nothing is… wrong, my Bellatrix?" the Dark Lord breathed. He was already undoing his robes and Bellatrix had to shut her eyes and lower her head again. An image of Rabastan, looming over her, not so very differently from the way that the Dark Lord was doing now, flashed before her eyes.

"No, my Lord," she tried to say, but it came out as a pitiful little squeak.

"Then you will look at me when I speak to you."

She swallowed hard, then raised her head. Her whole body shook, but she managed not to burst into tears, and focussed on a spot just above his shoulder to avoid meeting his eyes.

"Suck, my Bellatrix."

Bellatrix gulped back disgust. It didn't matter now that this was something that she had done a dozen or more times before – right now, she couldn't even _fathom_ putting her lips on him, or touching him, or doing _anything…_ She could scarcely stand to look at his cock.

"_Now,_ Bellatrix!"

"M- my Lord- I–"

"You _what_?"

"I c- can't…" Tears of shame filled her eyes and she dropped her head once again. "Please, Master, I… I can't…"

"No?" A note of anger crept into his voice. "You will not pleasure me now?" The anger was now joined with condescending disgust. "Are you too good for that, now that you have the Dark Mark? Afraid that the men will think you a whore if you continue to bed their Master?"

"No, my Lord, it isn't…" She couldn't bring forth the words she wanted. She didn't know what to say, and thoughts of Lucius's threat burned fresh in her mind. _She could not ruin everything for Narcissa because of this…_

"What, then?"

"I co- could not say…" she whispered, and it was the truth.

"That is not an answer that I can accept," he hissed at her, and Bellatrix felt fresh tears sting her eyes as he gripped her by her hair and pulled her roughly towards him. Her knees scraped across the ground and she had to put out her arms to catch herself. He pulled her up so her face was level with his groin, and his cock pressed against her lips. He reached down to pry her jaw open, parting her lips for him.

"Don't bite," he told her in a dangerous voice, and pushed into her mouth.

The tears broke free and fell down her cheeks. Bellatrix choked a little, swallowed, glanced up and shuddered, for she saw Rabastan's face where the Dark Lord's should have been, and the sight turned her stomach – it was all she could do not to heave up what little food there was in her. His familiar taste was vile to her now, for everything he did to her only reminded her of Rabastan and the other men…

He yanked roughly on her hair, pulling her back and glaring down at her. "You seem unwilling, my Bellatrix," he said, and though his voice was quite soft, there was a dark, dangerous undertone.

"I- No, my Lord, you are mistaken…" she told him, trying to sound brave, though her voice was weak and tremulous. "I… I would never be unwilling to do anything for you, my Lord."

"And yet you pull away… if I recall, Bellatrix, this was once an act that you enjoyed. What has changed?"

"Nothing, my Lord." She would not meet his stare, would not tell him; every bit of energy she had was going into the keeping her mind blank. She could feel his eyes boring into her, searching her for some hint of what had happened, and she thanked God for the lessons in Occlumency that she had received in her youth.

"Withholding information from the Dark Lord will not be tolerated, Bellatrix," he said slowly.

"I withhold no information from you, Master," Bellatrix said, trying to sound quiet and humble while not allowing her voice to shake. "No information that would interest you, that is," she added quickly.

He fell silent for a moment, then took two steps backwards and did up his robes once more. Looking at her with suspicion, he breathed, "Up. Go up to my chamber, where you were to sleep last night. Wait for me there. I will only be a moment."

Bellatrix began to shake once more, but she could not say no. Trembling and in tears, though trying as best she could to hide it from her master, barely able to control her own movements for sheer terror, she dragged herself upstairs, terrified of what would await her when she went in, and when the Dark Lord joined her.


	16. Chapter 16

Bellatrix hesitated before the door, her hand trembling over the handle. It was all she could do not to turn and run.

"Back so soon, Bella?"

Lucius's voice, so close to her ear, made her stomach heave. She whirled around, flattening herself against the opposite wall and staring at him with horror. She groped for her wand, but Lucius's was already out, and he twirled it idly between his fingers while he looked at her.

"Now, I don't want to hurt you," he told her in a mock-sweet voice. "I won't have to unless you decide that it would be a good idea for you to try to fight me – you don't think that would be a good idea, now do you?" he added darkly.

Bellatrix shook her head, clenching her hands into tight fists and pressing her back against the wall so that she was as far away from him as she could get without running.

"Good," he said. "So… I don't suppose that you and I could have a little… chat?"

"What could you have to talk to me about?" she spat, trying to sound venomous, but only managing fear.

Lucius took a step towards her and she flinched.

"I thought that there was something you ought to know," he hissed, "about exactly what will happen if you tell the Dark Lord…"

"I'm not going to tell him!"

"Well, of course you'd say that to me… but once he takes you into that room and puts his hands on you, I expect things are going to change, and you might just break down like the pathetic excuse for a woman you are and tell him all about the horrible… _horrible_ things his men did to you." Lucius's voice registered a note of mirth and Bellatrix pressed the back of her hand against her mouth to stop vomit from rising. "And just in case that happened…"

"It won't!" she cried, trying to back away, but he had her all but pinned to the wall now. His body was mere inches from hers, and she shook violently.

"But just in case it does, I thought that I ought to explain…" He put his lips close to her ear. "If you tell him–"

"You'll divorce Narcissa, I know! I know!"

"Yes…" He sounded almost as though he were purring, as though he was taking some sort of pleasure from this – which, Bellatrix thought hopelessly, he probably was. "I'll divorce Narcissa, and then… well, then, I may just have to give her to the other men and have them do to her what we did to you…"

The blood drained from Bellatrix's face and she stared at Lucius in abject horror. The thought of Narcissa – poor little Narcissa, who hadn't done anything wrong and wouldn't understand – hurt the way Bellatrix had been hurt was the most terrifying thing she could have imagined.

"Lucius… no," she breathed. "Your own wife- you couldn't–"

"Oh believe me, I most certainly could. I'd stay out of the way, the way Rodolphus did with you, but I could still let them do it…"

"You're disgusting," Bellatrix spat, and regretted it instantly when his hand moved to her waist.

"What was that?" he asked, in a small, falsely sweet voice. "I don't think I quite heard you…" And now his hand was moving up to her breast and there was nowhere for her to run and Bellatrix felt tears stinging her eyes again. She tried to bat his hands away, to twist out of his reach, but he was too close…

"Step away from her, Lucius."

Bellatrix turned her head and felt a rush of gratitude at the sight of the Dark Lord standing at the top of the staircase and looking at Lucius and Bellatrix with one eyebrow slightly raised.

Lucius lept back as though he had been burned. "I am sorry, my Lord… Bellatrix and I were just having a talk – about her sister…"

"I see…" It sounded to Bellatrix as though he didn't believe Lucius at all, but she didn't dare hope – after all, Lucius had been a Death Eater for far longer than she had, and proved his loyalty in far more ways, and if it were ever her word against his, then the Dark Lord would surely take his side.

Lucius inclined his head politely, then stepped out, and the Dark Lord turned to Bellatrix, who flinched a little at his piercing, all too knowing gaze before she managed to draw herself up and force something resembling a smile onto her face.

"My Lord," she said, keeping the tremor from her voice as best she could.

"Bellatrix." He did not spare her a glance, but swept past her and opened the door to his chamber.

Since she had been called to him, Bellatrix had been able to keep her composure. She had not burst into tears at the sight of her Master – or of Lucius – and had managed to act almost as though she weren't in pain. She had not expected the sight of the room to be the thing to push her over the edge – she had, in fact, been thinking to herself that if she had managed to see and speak to Lucius without becoming entirely hysterical, that the room in which _it_ had happened would be nothing.

But the second the door swung open and Bellatrix was greeted with the bed on which she had been pinned down and taken – the word _rape_ hurt too much for her to even think it – she came apart. She could swear that she saw herself on that bed, as though the event were replaying itself before her very eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she cried out weakly, pressing her hands over her mouth. Their smell was still on the air, she was sure of it.

"Bellatrix." The Dark Lord's voice sounded sharp and harsh – more like Nott's or Rabastan's than his own, and that only brought more tears to Bellatrix's eyes, though she was trying as hard as she could to quell them. "Crying does not suit you – you are to tell me what is wrong – now!"

"I- it is- nothing, Master," she whimpered, but it was no use – even to a fool, her upset would have been more than obvious. To the Dark Lord – why, he probably already knew…

But oh God, if he knew, then Lucius would think that she had told him, and then Narcissa – poor Narcissa…"

"Do not lie to me, Bellatrix." There was danger in his tone. "The Dark Lord knows when you lie… so tell me what it is that has happened to put you in this state."

"I- I cannot say, Master," she barely managed. "I- I could not… it is… it is not something with which I can allow myself to concern you."

"Nonsense!" The Dark Lord grasped her by the front of her dress and shook her firmly. "What use can you be to me if this is the way in which you act? Do you expect me to have any use for a Death Eater who cries so? Or any for a lover who cannot enter my chamber?"

"I- I do not, my Lord… but I–"

"There shall be no justifying yourself, Bellatrix! You shall tell me what has put you in this state, or I shall have to find out by force…" His lip curled into an ugly smirk. "And I doubt very much if you would be fond of my… methods…"

"I cannot tell you, my Lord," she said softly. _I cannot tell you because of what will happen to my sister if I do – and what will happen to me…_

"As your master, I _order_ you."

She shook her head, wringing her hands and looking desperately at him. How could she explain this – how could she even begin to justify why she would not tell him? She could not, and she bit her lips hard to stop more tears from falling.

There was a silence while the Dark Lord glared at her and Bellatrix tried to focus on her breathing, to fill her mind with an indefinable buzz that her Lord would not be able to read her thoughts through. She stared at her own hands, not willing to meet his eyes.

"Very well," he said at last, and his voice had gone quite icy. A chill ran up Bellatrix's spine. "Very well, if you will not say it outright, then I suppose I will have to resort to somewhat… cruder methods."

"My Lord?"

"You may scream if you wish," he said, drawing his wand and flicking it at the door. Bellatrix heard the lock click into place and a wave of shock and fear swept through her as it dawned on her what he meant to do, "but I doubt very much that it will do you any good. There's no one around to hear you, you see – well… no one who will help."


	17. Chapter 17

"No, Master… God, no, _please_," she whispered desperately, her whole body shaking from fear. "Please don't– Master, anything but–"

"Silence, Bellatrix," he hissed. "I gave you an opportunity to confess, and since you will not tell me, I will have to punish you… after all, Death Eaters are not permitted to keep secrets from their master…"

_You do not know the secrets your men are keeping from you_, Bellatrix thought, not without venom, but she did not – dared not – speak. She could only tremble, shrinking away from him, trying not to look at the bed.

"This is pathetic, Bellatrix! Once more, tell me _what is the matter with you!_"

"I can't, Master, I can't!" Her voice rose hysterically, and she rushed for the door, but he caught her, pressing her body against his.

"I do not care to hurt you, Bellatrix," he told her, and if she had not been so crazed with fear, she would have noticed a touch of genuine regret in it. "But I cannot tolerate my Death Eaters lying to me."

He flung her down upon the bed, and she scrambled back in a dazed panic. It felt as though she was trapped inside a nightmare – a terrible, twisted nightmare where she could not run or hide. In a way, she thought, this was even worse than what had happened last night, for now she _knew_ how badly it would hurt.

"One last time, Bellatrix – if you tell me…"

_Oh, _but she was so tempted. She could tell him everything, tell him what the men had done and save herself, perhaps even have them punished.

_But Narcissa… oh, dear God, Narcissa…_

"No, Master – I cannot say," she whispered. For her sister's sake, she couldn't…

"Pity…"

He shook his head slightly, and then he was on top of her.

_It shouldn't have been so bad_, she thought. _He had done this before. She had_ enjoyed_ it before._ That was what she told herself while he was lifting her skirts, spreading her legs, pinning her down…

But that was different – oh, so different. Her stomach clenched into a knot when she felt him touch her, and her every inclination was to curl up and shove him away, cry into her hands and beg him not to touch her. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her lips against the overwhelming urge _just to tell him_…

_No! No, think of Narcissa!_

"Please, Master," she whimpered. "I- I beg you…"

"Begging does no good, Bellatrix," he whispered in her ear. "Only confessing…"

"I can't, my Lord!"

"Then you suffer the consequences!" He sounded impatient, angry, and Bellatrix screamed as he forced himself inside her.

_You're saving Narcissa, protecting Narcissa – dear God, Narcissa_–

But no matter how many times she told herself that she was doing this to help her little sister, Bellatrix could not help but sob with every stroke.

"Master, please… _please_ stop…" she whispered, her voice weak and broken, and though she pleaded, she did not expect anything from him. She did not expect her tears to move him, or her begging to convince him – and why would it?

When he at last let out a soft moan, and she felt a flood of warm liquid inside her, though her body clenched automatically against it, she felt relief more than anything, for now it was over, and she had not broken.

_So Cissy is safe…_

"You still have nothing to say, Bellatrix?" he snapped at her, and she opened her eyes, wiping away the tears in time to see him sitting back. "It is such a _simple_ thing I ask of you… truth… and yet you will not say it."

"If- my Lord…" Bellatrix found it difficult to speak, her throat as tight with pain and humiliation as it was, but she managed to force the words out. "If my Lord feels that keeping a secret from you so terrible a crime, then I- I–"

"Yes, Bellatrix?" His fingers were running slowly up her torso, over the rumpled fabric of her dress – _he hadn't even had the grace to remove it, but perhaps that was for the best, for she felt so much less vulnerable while still dressed_ – stroking her throat almost tenderly. She shuddered and tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened around her windpipe and pulled her closer.

"_Bellatrix…_"

"Perhaps– perhaps I should not be a Death Eater," she whispered.

There very moment the words were out of her mouth, she felt sickened with herself. She had ruined her life to become a Death Eater – how could she give it up now? It was the only thing that she had left… but no, if she kept the mark, then surely things would only get worse and worse. _Particularly_ if the Dark Lord continued to insist upon keeping her in his bed.

He sat up, his eyes narrowing to slits. "What is this madness, Bellatrix? You cannot _leave_ the Death Eaters. You have committed yourself to this – do you not remember your initiation?"

"I am sorry, my Lord." Her voice broke and she had to wipe at her tears. "I am so… so very sorry… but…"

"There will be no talk of this, Bellatrix! You are a Death Eater, and that will never change now! You cannot leave and hope to live."

Bellatrix felt something in her chest ache, and if she had been of a more romantic disposition, she might have thought it to be her heart breaking. Her throat was so tight now that she could not speak, only shake her head and try to wipe away her tears.

"Bellatrix…" He gripped the sides of her head, forcing her to meet his piercing stare. She squeezed her eyes shut for fear of what he might see. "You are a valuable Death Eater. I do not wish to lose you. You are talented, for a woman."

"Surely you can find other women…" she murmured, even though the notion cut her deeply.

His hands fell away from her face and she dared to open her eyes. He was staring at her intently, but she was able to avoid his eyes, keep her mind – or the surface of it, at least – blank, and she prayed that that was enough to prevent him from seeing her thoughts.

"I have no desire for other women – either in my ranks or in my bed," he said coldly. "But if you wish to defy me now, then so be it. I shall give you twenty four hours in which to reconsider, and if, within those twenty four hours, you have not returned to me with a plea for forgiveness, and an explanation as to what has put you in this state, you shall be killed."

The matter-of-factness with which he informed her of her impending death chilled her to her bones.

"Master…"

"And you may be assured that I _will_ find you if you try to run, and that I _will_ kill you if you do not repent for your behaviour."

"Master!" She had never been in such agony – how could she explain to him how this hurt her? "Master, I–"

"There shall be no argument, Bellatrix!" he told her sharply. "This is a punishment that anyone who attempts to leave the Death Eaters receives. You do not think yourself worthy of preferential treatment because you shared my bed… do you?" His lip curled into a nasty sneer, enough to bring Bellatrix to fresh tears.

"N- no, my Lord."

"Then go. Go home. Think. Perhaps speak to your husband…"

_Rodolphus. This was his fault, all of this._

"Out of my chambers, Bellatrix. _Now._"

She rose unsteadily to her feet and backed away, forcing herself not to beg or plead with him. Her hand scrabbled at the door handle and when she was out of his room, her knees weakened and she slid to the floor.

_Twenty four hours._

_Twenty four hours to save herself._

_Or not to._

Perhaps if she told him the truth, he could protect Narcissa. Surely it was within his power to do _something_ to keep her safe – surely he would be able to keep those men away from her.

_He did not keep them away from me._

No, he had not kept them away from her. He had done nothing to protect her – she, his lover, his…

_His whore._

His whore. It was all so painfully, dreadfully clear. She had been _mad_, thinking of herself as anything more to him than that. Oh, he had called her a whore time and again, yes – even _she_ had called herself his whore – but never once had the name quite seemed real to her. She had taken it half as a compliment, and half simply as lust speaking. No matter how many times he had said it to her, she had always been sure that she was something more than that to him.

No, of course she was not.

Her mouth twisted as though she had bitten something sour. _For shame, Bellatrix, thinking that he might consider you a _lover_._

He would not shed a tear for her if she died – and why would he? She was nothing more to her than a body for his pleasure and a faceless servant to do his bidding – and scarcely even that.

Rodolphus would rejoice at her death, and could she blame him, after what she had done to him?

Narcissa might be saddened, but not as saddened as she would be – _as she should be_ – if Bellatrix told the Dark Lord what had happened and condemned her own sister to the same fate she had suffered.

So perhaps it would not be such a terrible thing that in twenty four hours, Bellatrix would die. It would be an honourable death, even – being killed by the Dark Lord for her sister's sake. She would never have to look in Rodolphus's eyes and see anger or betrayal and feel guilt for it. She would never have to see Rabastan or Lucius or any of the men.

A small part of her wondered if she had lost her mind, to be thinking this way.

The rest of her knew that she had.


	18. Chapter 18

Bellatrix sat for a long time outside the Dark Lord's chamber, unable to even bring herself to cry and rocking slowly back and forth and trying to soothe herself without avail. Every creak of the building – real and products of her own imagination – sounded terribly as though she was being approached again by the men. She would look up and around, frantic, and then go back to her crying when she realized that she was still alone.

Oh, what had become of her…

At last, she staggered to her feet, gripping the wall as pain shot through her lower body, and she limped slowly towards the stairs. She needed to go home, where there was a door that she could lock even against Rodolphus's intrusions, where she could, perhaps, write a long letter to her sister apologizing for her death and telling her that it was for the best. Of course, she still wouldn't be able to explain the reasons for her death, for fear of what the men might do to her…

Bellatrix's knees went weak, and she fell back onto a garden bench, grabbing out at thin air in hopes of catching herself, but she only caught hold of a fistful of roses, and her hands came away full of thorns.

"God _damn it!_"

That was more than she could take. Tears poured down her cheeks as she tried, with shaking fingers, to pull the thorns out of her skin. Blood pooled on her hand, trickling down her wrist in delicate red rivulets.

These were the roses that the Dark Lord had put in her hair.

It felt so _long_ ago – it seemed to Bellatrix that an eternity had passed since she had come out here with the Dark Lord, with every intention of becoming a Death Eater, and he had taken her as a lover instead. It seemed like forever since she had knelt on the ground between his legs and sucked him and savoured the taste of his seed in her mouth.

Now, she couldn't even imagine enjoying such an act. Even thinking of a time when she had enjoyed it made her feel defiled – more defiled than she already was.

What she would have given to take all that time back… she would have willingly sacrificed the pleasures of being the Dark Lord's lover if it meant that she would no longer have to suffer the pain of being the Death Eaters' whore…

She raised her hand to her mouth and licked it slowly, absently, lapping up the drops of blood. It tasted salty and sweet and not unpleasant… and now that the initial shock was past, her hand did not hurt so very much either. It felt a little shaky and it stung, but in an almost pleasant way. Not pleasant enough to enjoy as she once had enjoyed the Dark Lord pressing thorns into her skin, but there was a sense of release that Bellatrix enjoyed. It was nice to feel some relief, even if it was only a painful and superficial sort.

Tears were still running down her face, but she wasn't crying now – not exactly, at any rate. Tears were just falling, as easily as water might run down a wall during a rainstorm, or sweat might pour off a body…

She picked up the roses again and squeezed them, purposefully digging the thorns into the palms of her hand. The skin was raw now, and it hurt more than it had the first time – a duller, throbbing sort of pain instead of the sharp stabs that she had suffered before. Bellatrix breathed deeply with relief, closing her eyes.

Oh, but that was pleasant.

She sat on the bench for a long time, squeezing the roses in her hands, and, when her hands became so bloody and torn that she could not cut them anymore, she lifted her skirt slightly, put the roses between her thighs, and squeezed more.

By the time that the roses were caked with blood and the thorns turned to mush, Bellatrix was feeling better than she had since the Dark Lord had left her in his chamber last night. Her mind felt cooler and clearer than it had before.

And now that it felt cooler and clearer, a very calm, very lucid message was audible in it.

_What… are… you… thinking?_

She was being _stupid._ Death at the Dark Lord's hands was permanent, and even though right now it felt very much as though it would come as a relief, in the deepest, most cowardly part of her heart, she did not want to die – not now.

And what, she asked herself, did she expect to happen after she was dead – even to Narcissa? If Narcissa ever had an affair – not an impossibility; Bellatrix had seen how her sister looked at some men – would she suffer the same fate that Bellatrix had? And if she did, and Bellatrix let herself be killed, then Narcissa would have no one to whom she could go for help or comfort.

Bellatrix swallowed back fear, breathing deeply and straightening upon the bench, while she mentally recited her reasons – more for the purpose of convincing herself than thinking things through.

Did she really expect that the Dark Lord would not be able to protect Narcissa if she told him? He was the most powerful man in the world, for God's sake! Why would she think, even for a second, that he would not be able to protect her or her little sister? Why should she think that a few disgruntled men were more powerful than he was?

Bellatrix stood up, legs shaking, holding onto the back of the bench for support, and then started, slowly, for the manor. She prayed that she would not run into Lucius or any of the other men before she reached the Dark Lord's chambers, but the corridors were mercifully deserted.

She raised one hand and slowly knocked, thrice, upon his chamber door.

"Enter."

There was a distinct note of anger in the Dark Lord's voice, and Bellatrix almost fled, but she bit down on her tongue and slowly stepped inside.

The Dark Lord was facing away from her, standing with his hands behind his back and gazing out of a window that overlooked the gardens. Bellatrix felt a prickling of fresh shame – she supposed that he had been watching her – but she could not stop now.

"My Lord," she said, nearly quaking with fear, trying not to think about what would become of Narcissa, "I… I wish to- to speak to you… to tell you…"

"Yes, Bellatrix?" he asked coldly.

She bit down on her lips. "I wish… to tell you… what happened."

The Dark Lord spun around, fixing Bellatrix with a sharp, piercing glare. "Do you?"

"Yes, my Lord." Her voice cracked and she tried to calm herself, but she could feel hysteria choking her throat. "My Lord- I swore not to tell- they said… they said that they would hurt Narcissa – my sister – if I did…"

"Did they…" He eyed her suspiciously. "And yet you will tell me?"

"Yes, my Lord- but please… if I may beg a favour…"

"You are in no position to beg for favours, Bellatrix."

"Please, my Lord!" She sounded panicked now, she knew that she did. "My Lord, if I am to tell you… I… I beg- I beg that you will protect my sister…"

"Very well! Go on!" he said impatiently, and Bellatrix cringed a bit.

"I'm sorry, my Lord…"

"You are wasting precious time, Bellatrix," he told her. "I hope you realize that with every second that goes by – every second that you spend upon your grovelling and whining – that is another second closer to the time when I will have to kill you."

"I am sorry, my Lord–"

"So you have said! Now speak! Tell me what it is that has put you in this state, and _do… it… now!_"

She swallowed, twisting her hands together and looking up at him with tearful eyes. He seemed to her to be very angry, but she was hard pressed to say whether she might simply be panicking. Bellatrix's throat had tightened and she could barely bring herself to speak.

"Bellatrix…" His voice softened a little, into a sort of quiet purr, enough to make Bellatrix hope that he was not angry after all. She looked at him hopefully and he met her eyes.

"Tell me. Tell me now."

"My Lord…" Bellatrix moved backwards a little, sinking gingerly onto the edge of the bed, for though she did not like to touch it, she did not want to stand any longer either. Her knees felt as though they had been replaced by water.

The Dark Lord stood before her, watching expectantly.

Bellatrix breathed deeply. She closed her eyes and bowed her head for a moment, clearing her mind and pushing away thoughts of Narcissa as best she could, and then, in a tiny voice, began to speak.


	19. Chapter 19

"Master," she began, her voice small and shaking, "I… I have been told not to tell you this… not to tell anyone this…"

"And I have ordered you to tell me, and you _will_."

"Yes, Master," she said quickly, flinching at the impatience in his voice. "Yes, of course I will, Master, but– but I need to explain why I did not tell you before…"

"And there must be a fascinating explanation if you were willing to give up your life for it," he said, all snide impatience. Bellatrix looked down at her hands, trying to collect herself, for she could not have borne it if she broke down now.

"I did it for the protection of my sister, my Lord," she told him. "You see… if I told you… then… then she would be– hurt… and, my Lord, I only want her to be safe…"

"Speak quickly, Bellatrix. I have only so much patience for you."

"Please, my Lord," she said, looking back up at him, blinking to keep back fresh tears, "Will you truly protect her? Will you keep her safe – I know that they will be cruel to her… I will do anything for you if you do, Master, I swear…"

The Dark Lord turned away from her, and she thought that she saw him stiffening. His voice was ice cold and utterly devoid of emotion when he spoke next, and he did not look at her. "You have already sworn to do anything for me. I shall protect your sister if I see fit, but I shall most certainly not see fit if you do not tell me what it is that has put you in this state."

Bellatrix inhaled deeply, then whispered, "Last night, my Lord."

"Last night?" He turned back to her, and fixed her with a searching glare. "Is this concerning what you said to me?"

"Oh…"

Bellatrix had quite forgotten what she had said. Everything that had happened – _so many terrible things_ – had driven it quite from her mind, and she blinked, a touch confused as she searched her memories for the exchange that he could be referring to. All she could remember, however, was her standing up to leave her, and then the men coming in, and it was all such a terrible blur of agony that she could not bear to dig deeper or think about it any more than she had to.

"What did I say to you, Master?" she asked at last, trying to shake away thoughts of the men's hands on her. She was shivering a little, and dug her nails into her palms, trying to recreate the stinging relief that the thorns had given her.

"That you…" He broke off, turning away again so that she could not see his face as he said, with all the derision that she could have expected, and sounding as though he was spitting out something sour rather than repeating a phrase that she had used, "_love me_."

_Oh._

_Now_ Bellatrix remembered.

She remembered what he had done to her (_back when she was still innocent enough to enjoy sex, back before she knew how much it hurt_) and how she had, in her delirium and ecstasy, said what she had been thinking for what felt like so long.

_Oh God, why did I do it_?

Bellatrix felt bile rising in her throat, her face flushing the way it did when she had a fever. Stars popped before her eyes and she had to clutch tightly to the edge of the bed to keep herself from slithering off to the floor. If she hadn't been so damned _stupid_ as to say something that she had known perfectly well he would not like her to say, then he would (_perhaps_, said a small, cynical voice in her head, which she ignored) not have left her, and if he had not left her, she would not have been all alone, and if she had not been all alone, the men would not have been able to hurt her.

"You do not look well, Bellatrix."

"I… do not feel it, my Lord," she whimpered a bit, wiping her brow and pressing one hand against her forehead. "But… not too _terribly_ ill, my Lord – not too ill to go on," she added hurriedly.

"Then do go on."

"Yes, Master." She swallowed once more, swallowing back the vomit that had risen up almost to her mouth. "Yes, I… I am sorry… I am sorry for what I said last night. It was foolish of me, and I should not have- should not have displayed my emotions in such an unappealing and childish way–"

"But that is not what is bothering you," he said, cocking one eyebrow and appraising her. "If it were, then there would not be this shaking, this skirting around the fact… my question, still, is what _is_ putting you in this state? I have little interest in how sorry you are for speaking foolishly."

"I do not mean to bother you, my Lord–"

"Good. Then _tell me_."

Her whole body was shaking violently now, and a cold sweat beaded upon her forehead. "I… Master, after you left…" she began, but her voice choked and she could not go on. It was all she could do to draw breath.

"Bellatrix…" He approached her slowly, his eyes narrowed and a frown upon his face, "you are making yourself ill by speaking…"

"I am, Master," she told him in a tiny whisper. "I am ill, but I- I need to say… need to explain to you what happened…"

"Then say it simply!"

"I cannot–"

Bellatrix was silenced by a slap across her face. It was not rough – by far not the hardest she had received; the men had been much crueller with her, and even the smacks she had been delivered from her parents as a child had felt much harder than this, but she reeled nonetheless, startled by the sudden crack of his skin against hers and the stinging pain in the side of her face. Her hand flew up to touch it.

"Now," he said, in a low, harsh voice, grasping both sides of her head and staring at her, forcing her to meet his eyes, "you will _tell me_."

"After you left, my Lord," she said, a bit breathlessly. The slap had come as a shock to her body like being doused in ice water. "It happened after you left! I was alone – here – in your chamber, in your bed, and they came to the door and – "

"_Who_ came to the door, Bellatrix?" he demanded. Bellatrix thought, by the sound of his voice, that he might already know what had happened – and, more than likely, who had done it – but she did not dare to fall silent now.

"R- Rabastan Lestrange," she told him. Her voice cracked – she had always seen Rabastan as a friend, a brother even, and this was more than she had ever expected from him – but she took only one breath before she continued. "And Lucius Malfoy. And Dolohov, Avery, Nott– they came to the room, and–"

"_And_?" He shook her back and forth, and his nails dug into the flesh of her shoulders. "_And_? What happened, Bellatrix – say it now!" His voice lowered, and he spoke softly, low and sombre and almost gentle. "Say it now, before you fall apart."

"They–" It was an agony to say it; she could not bring the word for what they had done to her mouth. It felt far too strong, far to final and painful and she could not (and dared not) truly think that _that had happened to her_, however much she knew that it had.

"_They_?"

"They– They h–" A choked sob escaped from Bellatrix, and it was all she could do not to dissolve into tears as she managed to cry, "They _had_ me, my Lord!"

He fell quiet, and she did too, trying to silence her strangled sobs, for she could not hold them back any longer. Slowly, his hands dropped away from her shoulders and he stood, taking a step back.

_He does not want to touch you._

And who could blame him for that? She had been defiled, and why should the Dark Lord want someone like her in his bed now? He could have a real woman, a _clean_ one, one who had not been stained with the touch of other men…

"Lestrange," he said slowly, his voice little more than a hiss. "Malfoy, Avery, Dolohov and Nott?"

"Yes, Master," she whispered. "Yes, them."

He fell silent for a long, tense moment, then said, in a low voice that pulsed with anger that simmered just below the surface, "I shall call them here, right now." And when Bellatrix opened her mouth to protest, he cut her off. "Do not argue. They need to pay for this. And, you may be sure, my Bellatrix, that they _will_."


	20. Chapter 20

*Breathes deep* Notes here to avoid breaking the story up too much:

gamma-x-orionis . livejournal . c om (slash) 72232 . html (Without the spaces and with (slash) replaced with / )

)O(

Bellatrix sank gingerly onto the edge of the Dark Lord's bed, biting her tongue and clenching her hands into fists to stop from shaking. Her nails drove into her skin, recalling to her the feeling of the thorns, and calming her, at least slightly.

_It's all right. Everything is all right now. The Dark Lord has saved you._

She told herself that over and over, letting it echo through her mind as a hollow refrain. _Everything's all right. You're safe. Everything's all right._

She did not entirely believe it.

The Dark Lord looked furious, and it was difficult for Bellatrix to believe that it was not at all at her. He left her in his room, and she trembled like a leaf caught in a heavy wind.

_Please don't let them hurt me anymore, please…_

"Stay," he ordered her, before he slammed the door shut.

She trembled, twisting her hands together in her lap and bending her head, staring down at her fingers. Blood stained and spotted them, and they were marked with red dots that hurt more now than they had when she drove the thorns into herself.

The room felt uncomfortably cold. Bellatrix shivered, and contemplated curling up in his bed, but no, no, she couldn't do that, not ever again. Even now that she had her Master to protect her, she would never do that again…

It seemed like an eternity before the door opened again. She had been eagerly anticipating it, thinking that she would be glad to have the Dark Lord back, but when he returned, she shrunk away from the men he brought with him.

Lucius. Rabastan. Dolohov. Avery. Nott. And there, at the back, being dragged along by an invisible rope and looking terribly confused and even more terribly afraid, Rodolphus.

"These are the ones that hurt you, Bellatrix?" the Dark Lord demanded.

She nodded. "Y- Yes, Master, them," she whispered.

"I never laid a hand on her, my Lord!" Rodolphus protested, but the Dark Lord cut him off with a sharp hiss.

"You are accountable for what your brother did to her on your behalf."

"Rab, what did you do?" Rodolphus demanded, turning upon his brother with a look of dawning horror, but Rabastan kept his eyes straight ahead, not allowing so much as a flicker of emotion into his expression.

"Your brother has not told you, Rodolphus?" The Dark Lord's voice rose a note, and his tone hovered somewhere between mocking and dangerous. "He has not told you the way in which he saw fit to _punish_ your wife?"

Bellatrix could see the blood draining from her husband's face, and he lurched forward, catching Rabastan's arm. "Dear God, Rab… you didn't…"

"I did what was necessary to make her pay," Rabastan said calmly, still absolutely expressionless. "I would have thought that you would be grateful, as I did it for you. You were the one who wanted her hurt, if I recall."

"Not like _that!_" Rodolphus cried. "I didn't want you to…"

"Then you should have said so, shouldn't you?" Rabastan told him, not even looking at him. His eyes were fixed upon the Dark Lord. "Whatever punishment you see fit for us, Master, is worth taking. The other men…" He cast a disparaging look at Lucius, Avery, Dolohov and Nott, "might have regrets, but Bellatrix received exactly what she deserved."

"I am unsurprised that you should think that way, Rabastan," the Dark Lord told him, barely sparing him a glance. "I presume it was your idea to… _punish_… Bellatrix in the manner that you chose?"

"Yes, Master," said Rabastan, drawing himself up proudly. Bellatrix hissed at him, her lip curling and her eyes flashing in anger, drawing back when he looked at her with a lazy, superior stare.

"Then you shall be the first to suffer."

The Dark Lord drew his wand, and in one fluid motion, it was on Rodolphus. "_Crucio!_"

Rodolphus crumpled, his body writhing and twitching, and Bellatrix felt a wave of derisive pleasure at the sight of her husband – the cause of all of this – in such pain. But it was nothing compared to the joy she felt when she saw Rabastan's face go white.

"It is not my brother's fault, my Lord!" Rabastan cried. "I said that it was my idea!"

"Ahh…" The Dark Lord raised his wand slowly, and waited a moment as Rodolphus trembled and sobbed brokenly. Rabastan fell to his knees beside his brother, then yelped and was jerked back up again by a spell.

"The Cruciatus curse is such a… _superficial_ way of causing pain…" the Dark Lord continued. "Oh, it _is_ painful… but only in a simple… _physical_ sort of way…" He stepped forward, and Bellatrix was as enthralled as the men by the dangerous gleam in his eye, the calm, slow way in which he moved… "As anyone knows… the only _true_ way to hurt someone, the only way that cuts them straight to their core… is to harm something that they care about."

Rodolphus let out a quiet whimper.

"And so, for you…" The Dark Lord was all but _purring_, and Rabastan shrunk back from him, shaking, "watching your dear brother in pain… why, that's quite a bit worse than if I'd simply cast the spell on you, now, isn't it?"

Rabastan squared his jaw, and spoke between his teeth. "Whatever punishment you see fit, my Lord–"

"_Crucio…_"

Once more the room was filled with Rodolphus's screaming, and Bellatrix fancied that she saw a tear on the inside corner of Rabastan's eye. He did not speak, but he looked at his brother in such a way that Bellatrix could very nearly imagine herself feeling sorry for him.

Or, rather, she could very nearly imagine that until she remembered…

The Dark Lord turned on Lucius next, and he shrieked with agony as he too was brought to the ground by a Cruciatus curse. Bellatrix could not restrain the tiniest of giggles when he tore at his hair, wrenching clumps of his long, pale locks out of his scalp, but the laugh was cold and almost mad.

Rabastan's face went paler with every man tortured, every man who collapsed near his feet in agony, but the Dark Lord did not turn on him again until Lucius, Avery and Nott were all sobbing messes.

Rabastan stood between them, looking like the lone survivor of some terrible battle, his face ashen and his hands shaking. If it had been any other person, Bellatrix did not doubt that he would not have hesitated to draw his wand and cast the killing curse, but as it was, he stood petrified and waited.

The Dark Lord flicked his wand lazily at Rodolphus, not even bothering to speak, and Rabastan winced, twitching back as his brother convulsed upon the ground. Then his master's wand was aimed at him.

"_Crucio_," purred the Dark Lord, almost tenderly.

Bellatrix felt a great surge of delight as Rabastan fell, and she drowned out his screams with a cry of happiness. To see him like that, in such pain, was more satisfying than anything else ever could have been.

The Dark Lord lowered his wand and turned back on her.

"Did that please you, Bellatrix," he breathed. "Was that… _revenge_… suitable?"

"Oh, yes, Master, I thank you…" Her voice choked with emotion, and she was overcome, pressing one hand against her mouth to silence sobs. "Master, you- you have done so very much for me…"

"So I have," he said calmly, stroking his wand gently between his fingers and turning away from the men upon the ground.

"I am- I am in your debt, my Lord," Bellatrix whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She clutched his hand in both of hers, squeezing it and pressing her lips to the back, and he did not push her away. "How may I ever repay you?"

"You may repay me with your service," he said calmly, no more impassioned or emotional than if he had brushed a fly away instead of punishing his Death Eaters for her sake. "It is how debts to me are always repaid."

"I- I will, my Lord." She fell to her knees before him and clasped her hands at her breast like a woman in prayer. "What shall I do, Master?" Then, with some trepidation, "Master… will you… will you continue to desire me in your bed."

"Yes," he said simply. Bellatrix's stomach lurched, but he went on, "but not yet. You will be of no use to me in this state… when what the men did to you is no longer fresh in your mind, then you shall continue to serve me. See that you do not take too long," he added, and Bellatrix nodded.

"I… I thank you so, my Lord… I shall not take too long," she promised. "It… it is a great help to have seen…" She indicated the Death Eaters who lay fallen so near at hand – Rodolphus shaking and trembling still, Rabastan clinging to him, Lucius trying with shaking hands to wipe blood from his hair.

The Dark Lord cast them a cursory glance, then looked away once more, gazing out the window that overlooked the gardens.

"And you shall be faithful to me," he told her, more a statement than an order or request. "You shall do as I wish of you… always."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix whispered. "I am honoured to serve you… and I thank you… and I shall be faithful," she swore and then echoed, in a quiet, reverent voice,

"I shall be faithful to you, my Lord. Always."

)O(

_Fin_


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